


An Unworthy Partner

by avajane17 (free_bee)



Series: An Unworthy Partner [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Fremione - Freeform, Hinny, Marriage Law Challenge, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Years Between, marriage law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/free_bee/pseuds/avajane17
Summary: 'Crying out briefly, Hermione watched a thick ring of the blue white light encircle her fourth finger and lightly prance up the back of her hand. The stinging had disappeared, leaving a shockingly beautiful design upon her skin where the light had touched. Looking more closely, Hermione could discern the shapes as paw prints, though they didn’t resemble an otter’s. More curious than ever, Hermione looked around at everyone else, seeing similar reactions from them all. Every young person had new prints, almost tattoos, somewhere on their left hands.'Fred and Hermione are caught in the strange phenomenon surrounding the Wizarding world after the war has ended. Strange marks have covered everyone's wrists, linking them to their 'soul mates'. The two learn to be together, and fall in love despite the prejudice and continual fighting happening in their world. As they fall in love, the Weasley family grows and learns to live in a post-war world.





	1. The Boy Who Lived

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was (is) originally posted on ff.net, but I've begun to enjoy working on this site a lot more, so I've moved it here too! Let me know what you think!

.: * _Aparecium*\:._

_May, 1998_

*.*.*

   The world had gone black seconds ago, the castle’s hallway becoming so dark, Fred couldn’t make out lingering shadows. He shut his eyes quickly, the pain of the bright green flash stinging his eyes as soon as it left a Death Eater’s wand. Percy, standing practically back to back with Fred, noticed the green flash as well, but had the sense to watch the Death Eater who had cast the spell, and sent a disabling spell towards him. The spell hit home, the Death Eater flying back to hit hard against a stone way across the hall. Only, because he had sent the spell at the Death Eater, the green killing curse was still heading towards its target – Fred.

   Percy was motionless, the few feet now between he and his brother seeming like a mile, his feet trying to pivot to make it to the twin in time. He took no notice of George a ways behind Fred, finishing a battle with his own Death Eater – a fourth year Slytherin student – and was now watching the two in growing horror. Fred raised his wand, but Percy had already deducted the small probability of him reacting in time, or reaching him to push him out of the way.

    And he was right (of course). He was still a foot away when a brilliant blue spell intercepted the deathly green, causing the killing curse to ricochet into the same wall the Death Eater Percy had blasted hit, collapsing and covering the man completely. Percy only had a second to look to the source of the saving spell, where a small witch with too-bushy hair was ready to flee the scene, either to continue to help, or grab help for them. He waved her away, collapsing into the lonely twin, waving his wand over him in an easy spell meant to detect any casualties or anomalies in a wizard’s body. The witch only hesitated another moment before being pulled away by a different red headed Weasley, and losing sight of the two boys recovering from the battle. When Fred opened his eyes it was to a different spell, the hazy gray of it making its way up his chest, entering his jugular and filling his lungs up. It shocked a breath into his system, one he realized he desperately needed. Percy moved quickly to keep him standing, his arm going behind his shoulders.

   “Bloody hell, Perce. Whadya do that for?” The stiff backed Weasley only grinned, relieved his brother was away from harm, and giving a silent thank you to Granger. He gathered his younger brother in a huge hug, one Fred reciprocated heartily, grinning at George over Percy’s shoulder. The three Weasley’s took a collective breath, the hallway they had defended clear of all Death Eaters. “Come on Percy,” Fred mumbled into the curly hair currently pressed to his face, “we need to find the others.”

   The stiffness returned to Percy’s shoulder, and with a curt nod, Percy let go of Fred. Collecting both of their wands, and the Death Eater’s lost ones, the three brothers set off towards the Great Hall, hoping it would be all over.

* * *

 

   The Golden Trio huddled together in the corner of the Great Hall clutching each other in death grips, trying to catch their breaths. No one was looking at them, something none of them were at all used to, especially Harry. Their hands were occupied, barely any part of them untouched by one of the others. Hermione sat on the step in front of her boys, Harry’s hand clutched in her right, with Ron’s whole left leg pressed against her side. Ron’s arm was slung over Harry’s shoulders in a comforting manner, while Harry had slumped forward to lay his forehead against the back of Hermione’s bushy hair. And Hermione’s free hand was fiddling with Ron’s shoe, occasionally grasping at the toes. They were all three staring at different points in the room, not really focussing on the object of their stares. Any awkwardness this amount of contact would normally bring about was pushed aside in favour of the comfort.

   “It’s gone,” The black haired, soot covered boy finally mumbled into their silence. He pushed his glasses up as his hand ran over his face in exhaustion.

   “What is, Harry?” Hermione answered, knowing Ron wouldn’t be able to muster more than a grunt right now. The blow he took in the Chamber had winded him for quite a while, and she was sure he still wasn’t feeling quite up to moving around yet, let alone holding a proper conversation.

   Harry shifted from her hair, smoothing it down gently before sitting up to lean against the wall behind them, allowing Ron’s arm to drop from his shoulders, “His voice, and the pain in my head.”  Neither of them asked who it was he was referencing. None of them wanted to say his name so soon, as if to jinx it if they did.

   “Let’s see then,” Hermione demanded, pulling his head down before he could brush her off, pushing the fringe away from his eyes. The scar that would have usually met her eyes was much subtler than before. The angry puckered lines had smoothed substantially, making it looked more like a crease from a pillow he’d laid on for too long. It was still an obvious scar, but not as daunting as it had been for the past seventeen years he’d had it.

   “Harry, it’s practically gone.” His hand went up to his head in a practised manner, brushing his hair to the side to ghost his fingertips along the lightning shaped scar.

   “Thank Merlin! That means he’s really gone.” Ron sighed heavily, as if the last weight he was carrying had dropped from his shoulders. Harry only nodded before slumping, exhausted, back onto Hermione, this time resting in the crook of her neck.

      The wide doors of the Hall suddenly swung open, making every occupant of the Great Hall jump in fear. The trio leapt to their feet, wands at the ready, much too accustomed to defending themselves at a moment's notice. They relaxed when they recognized the three missing Weasley sons, all looking roughed up but with exuberant grins on their faces. The portly Mrs. Weasley hustled through the crowd, smashing into her sons, collecting them in a massive hug. Ron squeezed Hermione’s hand and Harry’s shoulder before breaking their triangle for the first time, moving towards his mended family. Harry grabbed for Hermione’s hand he had dropped while preparing to fight, giving her a quick tug towards the hugging red headed clan. They moved at a sedate pace, allowing the family to cry and hug in peace before intruding. Mr. Weasley had brought the rest of his sons over and his daughter attached to his side, and joined the family hug. Hermione couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips, seeing her adopted wizarding family still whole and happy. She admitted to herself that the thought of losing even one of them almost tore her in two. It was why she had forced Ron to make that detour with her towards Percy, George and Fred during their duel. And it was good she had, she had managed to throw that deflection spell just in time, otherwise Fred may not have _walked_ into the hall today.

   Harry must have decided they were watching for too long, as he shifted them towards Mrs. Weasley’s side notifying her of her two adopted children standing outside of her family circle. With a small cry, she hustled them in, keeping Harry firmly attached to her side, allowing Ginny to latch herself to him as well. Hermione was launched into the sea of boys, Percy and George gathering her up immediately.

   “Thanks Granger,” George whispered into her ear, giving her one tighter squeeze before shoving her backwards, into another Weasley’s arms. These arms were similar to George’s, but had the distinct girth of one who fought with dragons on a daily basis. Hermione peeked up, seeing Charlie beaming down at her before he picked her up in a brotherly, dragon sized hug. Percy patted her shoulder once more, she was put down by Charlie and whisked away into Bill’s arms, who nuzzled her hair carefully. She noticed he had been doing it to all the Weasley’s and Harry, and a small spark of warmth filled her chest when she realized he was scenting his family.

   “All right, don’t go hogging her, I want my turn too!” Another voice came over her head, and not for the first time, Hermione cursed the height of all the Weasleys. Looking once again over her head, this voice belonged to Fred, who didn’t tower over her like Bill and Ron, but was still slightly taller than Charlie, and grinned shyly at him.

   “I’m glad you’re okay Fred.” She smiled, suddenly shy in front of the twin. Fred didn’t seem to share in her shyness, a beaming smile spreading over his lips as he opened his arms, asking silently for a hug. Hermione stepped into his arms, returning the warm hug with gusto. She squeezed him as hard as she could, and if she noticed Fred’s grip lingering on her hip, keeping her close, she ignored it in favour of relaxing into the warm embrace.

   “I’m really glad you’re okay too Granger. Thank you.” Hermione nodded into his shoulder, ready to pull away to greet the rest of the family with similar hugs of happiness. But she was waylaid by Fred’s other hand, weaving its way into her hair to cup her head gently, keeping her locked with him a few moments longer.

   “Y-you’re welcome Fred, of course.” Hermione muttered, feeling a deep blush take over her cheeks at the extended gratitude. Finally, he pulled away, dropping her curls but keeping his arm around her tiny waist, one he noted practically showed off her ribs. Frowning, he forced himself to focus, looking away from Hermione’s obvious sickly state, and focus on the moment he was having. He opened his mouth to say something, ‘ _anything!_ ’ his mind yelped, when his mother interrupted them. Hermione was pulled away into a bruising motherly hug, looking over her family with a happy twinkle in her eye, one Fred could barely remember her ever having. Fred backed up into his twin’s shoulder, taking the support George was exuding. The twins watched the trio be passed around once more, jostling Harry and Ron a bit too hard, earning a lengthy scowl from their brother, but basically petting Hermione when she moved past them once more. They both were grinning madly, just happy to still be receiving those scowl from their youngest brother, and a ribbing from their dad. And if George noticed Fred’s eyes lingering perhaps too long on a certain witch, he wasn’t going to mention it unless his other half did.

   Surrounded by happy students and teachers, and other witches and wizards who had joined the cause, the Weasley’s (plus two) rejoiced loudly. Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the hall, smiling serenely down at her students, past and present, finally calm after years of stress.  But in her surveying of the crowd, she noticed a strangeness about a fair few of them. A solid glow was beginning to form around certain individuals in the crowd. No one else seemed to notice it yet, but McGonagall watched in trepidation, wand at the ready were it be needed.

   Now, many others were noticing the bright, blue glow. It was so brilliant; it was almost white. Most noticed because they were being affected, causing those around them who were unaffected to watch in growing horror. A few calmed down once they took notice of Harry, glowing as well, waving people to calm.

   “It’s alright! I think it’s your Patronus!” his answer immediately calmed the crowd, all now watching in childlike wonder as the blue white light travelled up the Chosen One’s chest, trailing down his left arm. The same was happening to most of the Weasley’s, save Arthur and Molly, as well as Bill. Hermione in particular was fascinated; this was no where in any of the books she’s read before. Suddenly, her playful otter Patronus sprouted from the light sitting on her chest zipping to and fro, up and around her. It ruffled her hair up, causing her to giggle a bit at its antics before it settled itself near her left hand, looking rather concentrated. She chanced a glance up, noticing Harry’s stag was nuzzling its antlers against his left hand as well. Ron was next to him, looking completely shocked at the massive lion licking his own hand. Hermione didn’t have a chance to be shocked at Ron’s new Patronus, as the stinging pain lacing up her fingers distracted her.

   Crying out, Hermione watched a thick ring of the blue white light encircle her fourth finger and lightly prance up the back of her hand. The stinging had disappeared, leaving a shockingly beautiful design upon her skin where the light had touched. Looking more closely, Hermione could discern the shapes as paw prints, though they didn’t resemble an otter’s. More curious than ever, Hermione looked around at everyone else, seeing similar reactions from them all. Every young person had new prints, almost tattoos, somewhere on their left hands.

   Harry sighed, “Celebrated too soon, I guess.”

* * *

 


	2. A Fox and an Otter

.: * _Aparecium*\:._

_May, 1998_

*.*.*

   The next day was much unlike the previous one. The Burrow was warm and lively again, its inhabitants all crammed into the space surrounding the long kitchen table to eat Mrs. Weasley’s food. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley hustled everyone home, no exceptions. Not that anyone was complaining, but Hermione had a feeling Mrs. Weasley was more worried she and Harry would try to back out. But Hermione was quite content in her spot squashed between Harry and Charlie at the Burrow table. Charlie especially seemed ecstatic to be home, but Hermione was a little unsure that wasn’t because he just missed his mother’s cooking.

   Upon arrival late last night (or early this morning if she was being completely honest) Mrs. Weasley had taken a brief nap along with the rest of her brood, before waking in a nervous fit, and beginning to cook and clean. Hermione was aware of the early food preparation as she was awake even before Mrs. Weasley. The two women had chatted nicely over tea, eventually moving towards baking together. Hermione took over the dessert prep, leaving the main courses to Molly. And now, Mrs. Weasley was bringing in her dessert dishes, basking in the warm compliments on the perfect looking apple pies.

   “Thank you dears, but I’m afraid I didn’t make these. Hermione was so kind as to make her grandmother’s recipe tonight.” The reaction was immediate, every pair of wide eyes whipped to stare at Hermione as Mrs. Weasley dished out hearty helpings to everyone. Upon everyone’s first bites, groaning and moans were heard around the whole of the table.

   “It’s settled, ‘Mione’s makin’ dessert foreva now” Ginny mumbled around her too large bite of the pie, receiving an indulgent look from Harry and a reproving one from her mother.

   Ron too had only good things to say about Hermione’s cooking, “How come you’ve never made stuff for us before? We just spent half a bloody year eating cold beans on toast. Harry, mate, we could have been having these!”

   Harry gave his friend a scathing look, “Yeah Ron, I’m sure the smell of baking pies wouldn’t have given away our location.” Ron had the sense to blush a bit, but continued to stuff the pie into his face. Hermione was warm in the face, but appreciated all of the good compliments sent her way. She had always baked for her mom and dad on her trips home, and for holidays. She couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed baking so much and endeavored to ask to help Mrs. Weasley more often.

   The twins were only a few seats down from her, whispering to one another between bites of pie. Hermione watched one of them – George she was pretty sure – grab another piece once his first was gone. “What are you two on about?” she whispered down to them, worried they were going to set out a prank to ruin the happy atmosphere. Fred looked over George’s shoulder, who had to turn around to face her. Charlie rolled his eyes, gesturing for Hermione to move over him to speak with the twins. Hermione waved him off, but was picked up none the less by the dragon tamer, being deposited on the edge of George’s seat, practically sat on his lap. Now blushing, Hermione waited for the twins to acknowledge her question. Fred had an odd look on his face while George just looked overly amused at the situation he found himself in with Hermione.

   “If you wanted to get close Granger, apparently all you had to do was bother Charlie. What a wingman, eh Freddie?” George nudged his brother, effectively snapping Fred out of his stare. Hermione gave George a scathing look, but dropped it to maintain her happy mood. The twins wouldn’t be able to knock her out of this mood. Fred on the other hand, still couldn’t look away from Hermione’s abandoned plate on the other side of Charlie. Most of his mother’s cooking had ended up on her son’s plates, but the small portion Hermione had taken had barely been touched. The meat was cut into miniscule pieces, and the potatoes moved around to create the effect of minimizing the portion. He couldn’t tell how much had actually been consumed by the witch, which caused a bead of worry to settle in his stomach. Looking up into Granger’s face, Fred noticed her face looked gaunt, showing the round circles under her eyes from what must have been a lack of sleep, and her cheekbones stuck out from her normally rounded face.

   He couldn’t deny Hermione was a small witch to begin with, something he could say he had admired before, but now the graceful femininity of her size was gone leaving only this frail little thing. He hadn’t told any of this to George, but his twin seemed to pick up on his musings of the little witch.

   “In answer to your question ‘Mione: nothing to worry yourself about, dear.” George started up, shoving another forkful of her pie into his mouth. Fred piped up, sticking his own two cents into their monologue and shaking off his worry over Hermione’s plate.

   “You just stick to your plate,”

   “Because I bloody am sticking to mine.” George finished, shoveling the last of his pie away, grinning like an idiot afterwards. Fred even rolled his eyes at his brother, poking the bulge in George’s cheek. Hermione grimaced, just imagining the taste of that much food was putting her off. Food wasn’t looking very appetizing to her, especially in large amounts, her stomach was too small to put more than a quarter of her helpings away.

   “You gonna eat that, Granger?” Hermione looked up from George’s empty plate to Fred, who was motioning to her plate on the other side of Charlie. She shrugged, not feeling comfortable in explaining why she was really very full. Fred stood up to lean over the three of them, getting a glare from Charlie, snagging Hermione’s still brimming plate. He put it in between her and George, picking up his own fork and beginning to work on getting rid of the meat. “Come on Granger, bite for a bite.” George watched them, ping ponging his head between them.

   Hermione flinched, and this time both twins took notice, “Fred, I really am quite full.”

   Fred stared her down, fork hovering in front of him, “Humour me.”

   Sighing heavily, and not seeing any way out of it, Hermione took up George’s fork and pushed a bit of potato onto the tongs. Urging her body to take the nutrients, Hermione took one bite after the other, each forkful following each of Fred’s until her plate was empty.

* * *

 

   The next morning, Hermione woke up but felt like she was still stuck in a dream. The room she shared with Ginny was silent, and by glancing over to the other girls bed she noted it was empty. The sun had barely rose, but Ginny may have even left before now. Rousing herself to sit up , Hermione reached for her wand sending it a silent _Lumos_ , and quietly left the room in search of Ginny. The hallway and staircases were silent as well, no other life moving this early in the morning. Hermione made it down to the living room without waking anyone else up, coming upon the girl she was searching for, as well as the boy-who-lived. Harry and Ginny were cuddled up on the couch, Harry slumped over in a restless sleep. Ginny on the other hand had looked up when she heard Hermione coming down, smiling a greeting to her friend.

            “Morning Gin,” Hermione smiled, happy to see her friends together again. “would you like any breakfast?” Ginny nodded her agreement, so Hermione went into the kitchen to make them some breakfast sandwiches from the leftovers in the fridge. Once she had two for each of them, and a cup of tea, she returned to the two on the couch, taking the overstuffed armchair beside them.

            “Thanks,” Ginny whispered, eating carefully around Harry’s head.

            “How long have you been up?” Hermione asked, taking a bit of her sandwich, and realized she wasn’t very hungry. Putting the half eaten sandwich back on her plate, Hermione instead focused on her tea and the conversation.

            Ginny shrugged, “I don’t think it counts if I didn't technically go to sleep.” Hermione was shocked, but looking at Harry still tossing around she understood Ginny was trying to ease him back into a normal schedule.

            “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

            The girls were silent for awhile, content in nibbling on the sandwiches and sipping tea. They whispered about nothing, enjoying one another's company in the early quiet hours. Eventually, the sun came in through the windows, and Mrs. Weasley came down the stairs to begin breakfast. She smiled at the girls and Harry, but went straight into the kitchen, effectively leaving them alone. A few minutes later, with the clanging in the kitchen, Harry woke up groggy and confused. Ginny propped him up and handed him a plate of the breakfast sandwiches. He gave her a quick peck on the lips before stuffing his face, giving Hermione a shy smile in greeting. The three spoke in soft voices, no longer worrying about the chance of waking anyone too early. Hermione eventually caught Ginny admiring the her own tattoo on her left hand she had received yesterday, one that wrapped twice around her left finger and trailed up to the nail. It was quite similar to Harry’s; it also wrapped around twice, but pointed the opposite way on his finger.

            “Did you come up with any ideas on what they could be?” Hermione asked, casually tracing her own tattoo with her thumb.

            Ginny shrugged, not caring too much, while Harry was giving his a much more intensive look. “I know I said it was a Patronus yesterday, but my tattoo has hoove prints different than a stag.” Hermione frowned, leaning forward to see Harry’s tattoo. He was right; the hooves were clearly a horseshoe shape, and not the pointed teardrop shape of a deer's.

            “I suppose I didn’t really notice that, but mine are different from my Clydesdale. Look Hermione.” Ginny stuck out her hand next to Harry, and Hermione couldn’t look away from the now near identical tattoos.

            “Er, guys, I think you have _each other’s_ Patronus prints.” Hermione whispered, a sudden dread filling the pit of her stomach. Ginny looked confused, but Harry look completely befuddled.

            “Is this because we’re dating?” Ginny asked, now rubbing at her tattoo like she was trying to reveal a trick.  Harry was already shaking his head before Hermione could think up an answer.

            “That doesn’t make sense for people who aren't dating anyone but still have a tattoo.”

            Ginny frowned and stuck out her hand for Hermione’s left one, demanding to see,” What’s on yours ‘Mione?”

            Hermione wasn’t as willing to show hers, now that she was so aware of what these tattoos could mean. In _Hogwarts: A History_ there had been mention of similar spells like these tattoos, though nothing so intricate. Most of those stories were in relation to the need for co-ed dorms that could house married couples after the first Wizarding War, when the Ministry had implemented a marriage law…

            “Hermione you have dog prints! Maybe Ron has otter ones, that would be cute, wouldn’t it?” Ginny grinned, but was given an odd look from Hermione and Harry. “What?”

            “Ron and Hermione aren’t together, Gin.” Harry chuckled, sharing a smile with Hermione. Ginny sputtered, indignant over this new information.

            “B-but you said he kissed you!” Ginny pointed at Hermione in accusation.

            “And immediately said he likes me as a friend. Ginny, I’m sorry, but let it go.” Hermione couldn’t help the laugh from escaping at Ginny’s crushed look. Harry also had a good laugh at his girlfriend’s distress, earning a glare from her for his troubles. “Besides, you must have missed it, but Ron’s Patronus is a lion now.”

            Ginny _was_ in fact surprised, but went straight back to wondering what prints Hermione’s tattoo belonged to. While she was busy, Mrs. Weasley came back into the room, asking for Hermione to help her with breakfast. Happy to help, Hermione excused herself from the lovebirds and joined Molly at the kitchen counter, where fruit was sitting waiting to be chopped. Hermione spelled a knife to begin slicing, and took up another to do the rest of the pile.

            “Thank you dear,” Mrs. Weasley told her cheerily, finishing the washing up from yesterday. Hermione nodded her welcome, and the two ladies continued in companionable silence. The silence didn't last long. Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, signalling the family was waking up. The first to arrive was Percy, with an owl letter firmly in hand.

            “Sorry mom, I can’t stay long, Kingsley has called Dad and I in to help with solving this tattoo mystery.” Percy pecked his mother’s cheek and grabbed an apple from Hermione, even giving her  friendly pat on the shoulder. Mrs. Weasley waved her son away with a soft 'Have a good day, son’ and Percy was out the door. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione continued with breakfast, before Molly decided to broach the subject everyone was debating.

   “What do you suppose those tattoos of your are, Hermione dear?” She motioned toward Hermione's own tattoo. “Though if anything, they are quite pretty.”

   Hermione had to agree with Mrs. Weasley. Her tattoo had kept her up for an hour after Ginny had fallen asleep (or so she thought she had), investigating all of the graceful, quirky loops the paw prints formed. The tattoo, similar to the way Ginny’s formed, looped only once around her left ring finger before trailing up to the nail bed. The other end trailed the opposite way, reaching down and curved into her thumbs socket. Though the beauty and unique quality of them was mesmerising, the implications of then were beginning to become clear to the young witch.

   “I don't think you want to know what I believe they are.” Mrs. Weasley gave her a pitying look, but dropped the subject entirely. Instead she brought up the insistent nagging of Mr. Weasley over his new love of Hermione's baking. With a laugh, Hermione agreed to take over the official duty of baking desserts when requested for dinner. Mrs. Weasley was well pleased, and finished her last dish before going outside to check on the drying laundry.

   Hermione wasn't sure how the woman had even had time to do laundry, but could only shake her head in wonder at the powerful matriarch of the Weasley's. In her distraction she missed the entrance of a sleepy Weasley, one who grinned at the opportunity, and clapped his hands down onto her shoulders, shouting a jovial, if croaky, “GOOD MORNING GRANGER!”

   Hermione jumped a foot she was sure, spinning around, wand already in hand. The proud smirk of Fred Weasley greeted her, eyes still half lidded with sleep and a discernible shadow of finger scruff along his jaw. “Fredrick Gideon, don't do that!”

   “Why Hermione, have I made you speechless?” The grin only widened as Fred leaned against the counter Hermione had been working at. Hermione scowled, her heart still racing from the scare.

   “I am many things Fredrick, but speechless is not one of them. If you'd like, I would love to impart my speech upon your poor ears.” Hermione smirked back now, throwing an orange peel at his head. Fred chuckled, brushing the peel off his shoulder.

   “Then thank you for saving my ears Miss Granger. Now, what’s for breakfast?” He clapped his hands together, perusing the dishes his mother had already prepared. Lifting  the lid of one revealed sausages drowning in juice, and Fred produced a moan of delight that had Hermione hiding a blush. Instead she slapped his hands off the pot, making him drop the lid. “Ow! Bloody hell woman!”

   “Patience is a virtue Mr. Weasley.” Hermione was the one smirking now, watching Fred rubbing his throbbing hand. It brought her attention to Fred’s newly acquired tattoo on his hand.

   “Nice tattoo,” she brought up, distracting Fred from whining further about being slapped and kept from food. Instead, he frowned at his hand boasting the new design and took a peek at Hermione's hand.

   “I guess, any ideas about them?” Fred asked, curious to see the markings on Hermione. Hermione also investigated Fred’s and noticed the distinctness of the paw prints, as she had curiously researched those exact marks during her fifth year at Hogwarts.

   “I’m getting some, yes.” She answered distractedly, “Do you know what prints those are?”

   Fred glanced down at his hand, holding the pattern close to his face to squint at the prints, following the pattern from his nail bed, around his finger, and down to his thumb. “Haven’t a clue. They aren’t like a dog’s or any kind of cat. And they’re too wide to be my fox’s.” He mumbled to himself, tracing one on his knuckle with the fingernail of his pinky from his right hand. Hermione shivered, her knuckle itching something fierce.

   “A fox? Your Patronus is a fox?” Hermione was beginning to feel weak, but she pressed on. Fred nodded, giving her a concerned look.

   “Hermione? Are you alright? Come here, sit down.” Fred pulled out a chair for her, but Hermione instead snatched his hand, and showing him her tattoo.

   “Here, mine, do mine look like a fox’s?” Fred gave her a strange look but looked at her tattoo anyway, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. “It does, doesn’t it. And yours are from an otter.” Fred dropped her hand, a deep frown etched on his brow.

   “Hermione, I don’t understand what this means,”

   “It’s not anything good if it’s what I’m thinking.”

   Fred ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends in coming frustration, “What are you thinking Granger?”

   Hermione watched him a moment, waiting for him to lower his arms and look her in the eye, “I think these are soul marks.”

 


	3. Bonds Are Set

_.: *Aparecium*\:. _

_ *.*.* _

_ May, 1998 _

*.*.*

 

   Ginny, Harry, and Hermione sat together once again in the living room, still waiting for the rest of the family to wake up. Ron especially was still snoring loudly, dead to the world when Harry had went upstairs to dressed. Fred had left Hermione in the kitchen after their talk, going upstairs to find George, and clear his head.

   “You mean your and Fred’s tattoo’s are like mine and Harry’s?” Ginny asked, twiddling Hermione’s fingers in her lap. “It can’t be a dating thing then, you and Fred have never been together.”

   “I’m not saying it’s because you’re dating, I think it’s something bad, Gin.” Hermione stressed, trying to get her friend’s to guess instead of saying outright what might be looming over their heads. But Hermione also knew, from the previous seven years, that Harry wasn’t going to catch on to her subtle remarks, and was banking on Ginny. As it turned out, Ginny was banking on Harry, as she wasn't catching on to Hermione either. 

   “Hermione, you’re not making sense.” Ginny sighed, dropping her friend’s hands, flopping into the couch cushions. Hermione sighed, ready to try again when she was interrupted by two bodies jumping over the back of the couch next to her and in front of she and Ginny. Harry leaned the other way to avoid his glasses being knocked off his face. Fred leaned into Hermione’s shoulder to push her further away from Ginny, creating a space for him between the girls. George nuzzled between their legs, eventually ending with one of Ginny’s legs over his shoulder and Fred’s next to his arm.

   “I think you’ll find Granger’s making perfect sense, Gin-Gin.  _ You’re _ just denying the obvious.” George nudged his sister, wagging his eyebrows at her and Harry. Hermione huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Ginny also folded her arms, glaring down at her older brother.

   “No George, I don’t. Why don’t  _ you _ explain.”

   “It means, dear sister of mine, that Granger and Freddie are,” here George paused dramatically, “ _ soul mates _ .” Ginny scoffed, smacking the back of his head and the same time Fred kicked his leg out at his brother’s side.

   “That’s  _ not _ what it means, Georgie.” Fred scolded, surprising Harry and Hermione with the twins’ disagreement.

   “What else could it be? It’s the only significance that would make sense with the tattoos. What other reason would cause Fred and Hermione’s Patronus’ to cross paths?” George stressed, and Ginny gave Fred a contemplative look. 

   “And your tattoo prints are for  _ sure _ otter prints?” Ginny stressed, taking Fred’s wrist in her hand when he offered it.

   “Hermione said they are, so, yes.” Hermione nodded, agreeing with Fred. Ginny stared at the tattoo on her brother’s hand longer, as if it would answer for itself why it existed.

   “And these are fox prints; I checked in my book  _ Prints and Pads of the Wizarding World’s Animalia _ .” Hermione piped up, getting an amused grin from Fred beside her. Ginny dropped Fred’s hand and reached for George’s.

   “How do you know the print’s aren’t George’s then?” George looked put off.

   “Ew, I don't want to be matched with icky Granger.” He was met with resounding shouts of ‘George!’ from each person surrounding him. “Besides, my Patronus isn’t a fox; it’s a hyena. Completely different animal.” Hermione seemed intrigued but didn't press the matter, something Ginny was grateful for, as she wasn't ready to dismiss the current matter. The more she thought on the idea, it became exciting. 

   Ginny had never thought to pair Hermione with any of her brothers other than Ron, but, thinking things over, she could see how Fred would fit with her best friend. “You know George, I think you may be right. Fred and Hermione are kind of cute together.” 

   The shocked, red faces of Hermione and Fred met her, as well as the highly amused George, and struggling to contain his grin Harry. “You think so Ginny?”

   Ginny grinned at George, “Yeah, but you know the best part Georgie?”

   “What’s that?” George lost his grin for a frown, unsure what his sister was getting at.

   Ginny smiled at Harry over her shoulder, receiving a soft smile back, “That means we all have soul mates. And mine is Harry.” The three others groaned, hiding behind their hands when Ginny leaned in to snog Harry, giggling like mad when her siblings and Hermione scattered to the kitchen to hide behind her mother.

* * *

   Everyone was finally seated around the kitchen table together, eating breakfast as a family. Hermione had made sure to squeeze herself into a spot away from Fred, too nervous around him to be able to relax. She had therefor ended up next to Charlie again, with Fleur on her other side. Fred and George were situated on the other end of the table, and while Fred hadn’t looked up from his plate for the whole meal, George had periodically sent her sly grins and winks. She knew her face was beet red by now, but Charlie and Fleur either didn’t notice or graciously ignored her complexion.

   “Hermione, dear, would you like more rolls? You’re still looking a bit peaky dear.” Mrs. Weasley stressed, handing the plate of breakfast roll down the line. Charlie was about to hand it to Hermione but noticed her pained expression and hesitated. 

   “That’s alright Mrs. Weasley, I think I’m quite full, thank you.” Mrs. Weasley frowned at her, causing Hermione to prepare for a tongue lashing.

   “Oh, Hermione, you’re much too small, you really should —” 

   Fred interrupted, speaking up for the first time during the meal, “Mum, leave her alone.” Everyone found this reaction strange, but no one was more shocked than Mrs. Weasley.

   “I’m not — Hermione dear you know what I mean,” Mrs. Weasley tried to coerce her once more to take another roll, and she did; but immediately handed it back to Charlie the moment Molly’s smug grin turned towards another victim of second helpings. Charlie grinned down at her, ripping into the roll happily, starting up conversation with Ron on his other side. Their breakfast was then interrupted by Errol, crashing into the table with no prior warning upending the half empty bowls and dishes in the center of the group. Hedwig followed in gracefully, landing on the back of Harry’s chair, cooing to him gently. 

   “Errol you ruddy thing, get off my eggs!” Ron swatted at the owl, sending the poor thing further down the table. Fleur stopped the owl gently, picking him up on her arm for him to recuperate. Bill reached over and dislodged the letter hanging from the owl’s leg. Hedwig also had a letter on her leg, this one more official, marked with the Ministry’s insignia. 

   “It’s from Dad,” Bill says, reading the letter quickly, a deep frown marring his face. 

   “Read it out loud Bill,” Charlie asked, waving his brother on. Bill nodded, leaning into the table resting his arms on the wood.

   “He says, 'The Ministry is sending out the letters now,  don’t panic, Percy and I will be home as soon as possible to further explain.” Bill folded the letter up once more, and Harry took this as his cue to take the letter Hedwig was trying to pass off to him. Once she was unburdened, Hedwig fluttered to Flier and Error, also receiving a pet and pieces of bacon. 

   Harry opened the Ministry's letter and began reading without further prompting, ” _ To whom it may concern of The Burrow, St. Ottermole, Englan _

> _ As of May 2, 1998, the Ministry of Magic has decreed a necessary constitution of a marriage law. This law will rationalize our growing need to stand together, and grow our community anew from these wretched times. All unmarried witches and wizards between the ages of sixteen and thirty have acquired a soul bond mark on the eve of the aforementioned date.  _
> 
> _ The Ministry would like to congratulate those who have discovered their soul bond mate. Those who have not will be receiving a letter from the Ministry to help determine their identity to you.  _
> 
> _ All bond mates must announce their marriage date to the Ministry, which must occur within the next year. Married couples must produce one magical child within a year after the marriage date. If one or both partners are in school, the couple may wait for an extra year after graduating before conceiving children. Failure to conceive may cause in couples being rematched to ensure further magical children.  _
> 
> _ Prior attachments have been put into consideration, and if you have received a soul mark and are currently attached to an eligible candidate, please make an appointment with a Ministry official to have your match altered. _
> 
> _ If there are any questions, the Ministry is happy to receive your letters. _
> 
> _ Thank you, have a good day.”  _ Harry’s voice petered out, placing the letter gently on the kitchen amidst the scattered dishes and cutlery. The table was silent, everyone too shocked at the truth of their tattoo’s to say anything. George was the first one to break the silence.

   “‘Mione, sometimes, I  _ really _ hate when you're right.”

 


	4. No Decision Necessary

_.: *Aparecium*\:._

*.*.*

_May, 1998_

*.*.*

   The house was in a riot. Mrs. Weasley was fretting over the news by tutting over her nearest son — George — asking him to quiet down and have a cup of tea. Ginny and Harry had their heads down together, most likely bickering over how to help the family when they were quite content with the situation, but wanting to fight the higher power for the rest of the family. Charlie had begun arguing with Bill over Fleur and Hermione's heads, about what she wasn't sure. Hermione was more focused on Ron, trying to get him to say something, anything to distract his ears from getting any redder.

    “Ron, it’s not all bad. The Ministry will —” she tried again, but said the wrong thing to her hot headed friend, watching him now blow up at her.

    “The Ministry is the one putting us through this Hermione! How could you think they'll be any more help to us?”

    Hermione glared at the boy across from her, “Don't yell at me, Ronald! This isn't my fault.”

    Ron only became more flustered and argumentative “Did I say that? No, you’re just twisting my words to get me to apologize!”

    Hermione threw her hands up, completely frustrated already, “No I'm not! I was trying to help!”

    Ron waved her off, “Whatever, doesn't matter. Obviously we’ll be matched together anyway, so —”

   “No.” Hermione heard herself saying, causing Fleur, who had stopped trying to end the eldest Weasley brothers fight, to stare at her in astonishment. Ron screwed up his face in confusion, all fighting words disappearing instantly.

   “What do you mean ‘no’?”

   “I mean ‘no’, Ron. I haven’t been paired with you; you can’t just choose me.” Hermione could feel her cheeks growing warmer as more of the family turned their attention to her argument with Ron. She subtly crossed her fingers on her lap, internally pleading Ron would clue in to the awkwardness of this conversation and stop. But, in true Ronald Weasley fashion, he decided to make a big deal out of nothing.

   “How would you know? This is the first we’ve heard of this!”

   Ginny was the first to cut in, sick of hearing her ignorant brother’s drivel, “Shut it Ron, Hermione’s had this whole thing cased since last night. She’s the one that figured out how to match the Patronus prints on our tattoos. See? Look, Harry and I have matching ones.” Ginny stuck out her wrist, nudging Harry to do the same. The few surrounding them leaned in, looking at the slight differences between the tattoos. “Hermione noticed our tattoos take each others Patronus’ paw prints — see, I have deer prints, Harry has hooves — it signals which soul you’ve been bonded to.”

   Instantly, all her brother’s aside from Fred checked their own hands, realizing they either knew or didn’t recognize the prints there. Fleur’s songbird prints were all over the back of Bill’s hand, and wolf paw pads were in the same design on the back of Fleur’s.

   “So how do you know who they belong to?” George asks, flipping his hand around to see more prints on the palm of his hand.

   “You don’t unless you know their Patronus, I guess. You might not even know the person, and the Ministry will have to match you together.” Ginny shrugs, happy to have helped. George looked at his tattoo with renewed interest, the mystery of the prints becoming intriguing.

   “How do you know we’re not matched then, ‘Mione? Your prints could be a dog’s.”

   Hermione gave Ron a puzzled look, completely baffled, “Ron, your Patronus isn’t a dog. Harry and I saw it, your Patronus is a lion.” Ron went red, embarrassed now at his faux pas.

   “Er, right, forgot about that.” he mumbled, and Hermione nodded, satisfied he was seeing sense again. “So, you know what prints they are then?”

   Now it was Hermione’s turn to go red, “Yes, um, they’re from a fox.”

   Ron thought for a moment, “We know anyone with a fox Patronus?” He thought some more, oblivious to the sly looks Hermione was receiving from George and even Ginny. “Oi, I think Dean or Seamus had some kind of fox thing! You should check with them, that’d be a right laugh!” Ron chuckled to himself while Hermione continued feeling rather nauseous from the dread of her reality.

   “Oh, but Ronniekins, Granger already knows who her soul mate is.” George pipes up suddenly, getting a shocked reaction from Hermione and Fred, though no one seems to pay any mind to the latter. Ron especially is entirely focused on George, shrewdly glaring at his brother as if he interrupted a private conversation. Hermione felt the most uncomfortable she’s ever been around the group, and stopped shy of holding herself and hiding under the table.

   “Yeah, how do you know? Who is it?” Ron goads his brother, taking a sip of his tea.

    “George,” Fred mumbles out of the corner of his mouth at his brother, extremly aware of the hole George was digging him into. Carefully, Fred slipped his left hand under the table without anyone seeing, like that would save him from anyone finding out.

    George ignored his twin, grinning lecherously at his youngest brother, “Why, the only one little ‘Mione could be matched with is the wizard with the otter tattoo, isn’t it?”

    “Yeah,” Ron drags the word out, silently gesturing George to get on with it. He smiles over at Hermione, like she should be laughing, and finally notices her green complexion. “‘Mione?” But George doesn't pause, far too invested in his fun.

   “Handy that, as I happen to know someone with an otter tattoo _and_ the owner of a foxy Patronus!”

   “George!” Fred hisses, his head lowering to the table inch by inch, Hermione’s stomach dropping at the same intervals.

   “Who?” Ron asks, looking away from Hermione back to George.

   “George!” Hermione pipes in alongside Fred, both nearly under the table. The entire family it seems, aside from Ron has clued in, and Fleur was giving Hermione a most consoling look.

   George gave his twin and Hermione patronizing looks, “No, not me, silly. Fred.”

   “What?!” Ron roars, sputtering on his tea.  Now Fleur gives Hermione a rather shocked look, as does the rest of the family. Ginny is grinning unabashedly at her friend, and George is leering over his twin, enjoying his laugh far too much.

 

* * *

 

   After the bomb George dropped at the kitchen table, Fred had beat his twin over the head, causing a mad cackle to leave the twin. Ron was gaping, Mrs. Weasley was beaming, and Hermione felt sick. The family had dispersed after that, no one saying another word on the matter (other than Ginny ripping into George for his tactless announcement). Eventually the kitchen cleared, some of the family leaving after patting Hermione or Fred on the head or shoulder, like they were grieving over a death. It annoyed Hermione to no end, but sat through it until everyone had dispersed.

   She had faced monsters before. Huge snakes cowering in her school, raging centaurs in the Dark Forest; even a few questionable teachers. Fear had coursed through her entire body, and she knew now better than ever what it felt like to await death. To her amazement, Hermione felt more emotion in this moment than she did in any of the past horrors she had faced. She could barely look at him, her cheeks growing uncomfortably warm every time she glanced up hoping to say something.

   "Hermione," His whisper cut rather suddenly through their tense silence. Hermione still refused to look up, instead turning her head to the side, revealing her ear from her curtain of hair.  
  
   "Yes?"  
  
   "I don't know what to do," he scoffed at himself, trying to gain back some control of the situation. "Or say, to you, which is strange because you're my friend, but I can't, or I don't know," He stopped. Hermione felt like crying from the relief rushing through her, realizing they were on the same embarrassing page.  
  
   "Oh Fred, I'm sorry," The bench between them didn't seem as daunting as she slid down towards him. He took a quick peek before ducking his head into his tea, still ignoring her. He mumbled something, but she didn't catch it so she slid closer still, only a few inches left of the bench between them. "I didn't hear that,"  
  
   "I said: I'm sorrier." Hermione couldn't help the giggles that escaped when he mumbled again, this time lifting his head for her to hear. Without thinking, she sat right next to him and gathered him in a one armed hug, pulling his shoulder into her neck.  
  
   "Oh Fred, what am I going to do with you?" a deep sigh broke through from the moody red head as he finally raised his head, looking straight into her eyes.  
  
   "Marry me, apparently."

   Hermione blushed, releasing Fred from the hug she had him in, and instead returned to her seat to grab her tea, then took the initiative to sit down next to him once again. He rewarded her courage with a gracious smile, and they sat in a more comfortable silence than before. Eventually, Fred began to fidget, so Hermione prepared herself for the conversation.

   “I’m killing George, if that makes you feel better.” Hermione guffaws at the declaration, immediately relaxing once again. Things with Fred were too easy sometimes.

   “I’ll help if you'd like. I’m really good at the Jelly Legs jinx.” She smiled at him, receiving a warm chuckle in return.

   “I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

 

   The next morning was somber and quiet for everyone. Bill and Fleur were still fast asleep, leaving the rest of the home to sit silently at the breakfast table. Mrs. Weasley was running around moving food from one person to another. Ginny was sitting rather cheerily compared to yesterday, talking with Harry like she did every morning with him. They had obviously been up for a while, judging by the awareness in Ginny and the two empty cups of coffee in front of them. Ron was slumped over the table, significantly less happy looking than his sister and best friend. His hair was standing straight up, managing to look just like Harry's on a good day. Hermione couldn't help but smirk at the curl behind his ear sticking straight out to curl into a horn. She skipped up to Molly to take her cup of tea before it could be handed to her, and passed the next set of biscuits, hoping it would calm Mrs. Weasley down for the morning. Molly only smiled and patted her on the cheek fondly, continuing to pass food to her children. Fred and George bounded down as she took her seat, settling down for the long morning of waiting. George took a seat to her immediate right, while Fred grabbed the two cups Molly was turning around with to hand to the twins, shocking her before making her smile warmly. He winked cutely at his mother, handed the second cup to George, and purposefully sat next to Hermione, boxing her in between he and his brother.

   Hermione decides to ignore the twins, pulling over the copy of Witch Weekly Fleur had had delivered early this morning, still sitting in its bindings with the Daily Prophet. And while Hermione generally would have prefered the Prophet, she didn’t think she could handle the things that would no doubt be in there about the ‘Golden Trio’. She flipped through the magazine idly, until she was interrupted by Fred nudging her side with his elbow as he lifted his cup to his lips.

   “Hermione, have you eaten anything yet?” He whispered politely, but Hermione still startled. She flipped another page, not really paying any attention to the beauty tips there, trying to act collected.

   “I’m having tea, Fred.” She lifts her mug as if to prove it, tipping it to her lips and taking a dainty sip, honestly not very in the mood to be drinking it. Fred frowned good naturedly, nudging her arm this time.

   “That’s not what I meant Granger. What are you in the mood for?” He asks again, changing tactics to get a more direct answer. This time Hermione knew she couldn’t ignore him, and put the mug of tea down to focus real attention on him.

   “I’m really not hungry, Fred.”

   “You haven’t eaten since dinner last night,”

   Hermione frowned, not appreciating the guilt he caused growing in her stomach, “I’m aware, thank you. Not everyone eats enough for a Griffin every three hours, Fred.”

   “No,” he agrees, “but no one eats less than a mouse in twelve hours, ‘Mione.” Fred kept her stare, daring her to try and deny it. She could not, but also didn’t stand to get anything to eat. She couldn’t stomach it; it was almost painful to smell so much food all the time, so different from the last few months in that tent, eating too little, and giving most of her rations to the boys.

   Instead she decides to divert, “Since when do you call me ‘Mione’? What happened to Granger?” She shockingly watches a blush rise into Fred’s cheeks.

   “Well, I figured I would try it out, since you won’t be ‘Granger’ anymore soon.” He mumbles to her around the lip of his mug, no longer enjoying the talk with Hermione. They sat in silence, glad George was being more tactful today, sipping their tea in tandem. Eventually, Mrs. Weasley left a plate of biscuits in front of the three, and Fred grabbed one up instantly, giving Hermione a calculating look. He moved the plate closer to her, obviously indicating he wanted her to pick one up. Hermione looked at the plate, and found she craved the buttery pastries. This was a feeling she was familiar with, one she had to ignore when they were on the run, but now realized she could imbibe these without guilt. So, she took one in hand and nibbled on it, ignoring Fred’s gloating smile, focusing on her biscuit and the magazine in front of her.

   In the next minute, Fred jumped when Hermione choked on her biscuit, sputtering at the article in front of her. “Oh Merlin!”

   George joined him as Fred snagged the magazine out from Hermione’s hand, reading the gossips article printed on the centerfold pages. Fred immediately saw why Hermione was shocked; the entire article was on her. A journalist from Witch Weekly had jumped on the popular focus of the wizarding world’s soul mark tattoos, and had somehow gotten wind of the Trio’s.

   “This is nuts, Freddie, listen, ‘ _Which of the two handsome wizards has the Golden Trio’s female beauty been paired with? Details on page 10, and insider information of the tattoo transformation at the Battle in Hogwarts.’_ This is mental!” George reads out, furious at the article. Fred and Hermione were not far behind, leaning over George’s shoulder, trying to read as well. Fred snatched it out of his twin’s hands, putting it back in front of Hermione so the three could read together.

   “Why would they do this? They don’t know us at all, why would they care?” Hermione was flabbergasted, unable to understand. Interest in Harry, sure, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, he had been famous since infancy. But her and Ron?

   “In case you haven’t realized Granger, your best friend is Harry Bloody Potter. The world has noticed you too and,” George paused, flipping the page to see a few candid shots of Hermione, posed either alone or with either Ron or Harry, “might I say, I’m bloody well noticing you too.” Fred peeked at what George was looking at, and cuffed his head with a scowl. Hermione also looked, practically squealing at the picture taken sometime in sixth year, when she had visited Hogsmeade with Ginny. She didn’t know who had even taken the photo, but it was clearly pointing straight at her bum.

   “Oi, don’t ogle!” Hermione squeals, also smacking at George, managing to land one on his arm. The red-head man just laughs, shoving the magazine at her and Fred. Fred closes the magazine, resting his elbow on top as if to guard it from Hermione. Hermione didn’t mind, she was quite finished with the gossip magazine.

   “Just don’t pay attention to it Hermione; _you_ know you’re not paired with them, and that’s all that matters.” Fred murmurs to her, and she tries to ignore it by going back to her breakfast, but her mind can’t stop thinking about the article. Were there more she hadn’t seen yet? “Hermione?”

   “Yes?” she asks quietly, and George takes this moment to leave the two, realizing he should leave them alone to talk. Fred waits for him to leave, double checks his mother is still in the living room, relaxing on the couch. He turns his attention back to Hermione, who is watching him carefully.

   Fred leans in to whisper, “Is it— are you alright? With having, or, being with me?” Fred pauses, and blushes again, “Not that we’re together, but, um, that we’ll have to be? Together? Are you upset it wasn’t Ron?” he almost spits out the last part, his nerves winning over.

   Hermione was honestly quite shocked. She had never thought how this situation might be affecting Fred, and it apparently was affecting him quite strongly. “Fred, there isn’t anything you can do to change it.”

   “I know,” Fred sighs, running his hand through his hair in agitation, “but that’s not what I mean. Do you want Ron?”

   Hermione pauses, thinking it over while watching Fred, watching the way his eyes flicker between hers and over her head once or twice. “No.” Fred relaxes, but doesn’t smile or laugh, or look her in the eyes.

   “Do you want me?” he whispers, and Hermione freezes. It takes time, but eventually she whispers back.

   “I don’t — no.” Fred nods, like he was expecting it, but Hermione knows she hurt him, because strangely, she feels hurt too. “Not now.” she adds, and feels significantly better. Fred graces her with a small smile, and nods his head.

   “Not now.” he repeats, and Hermione knows he understands. She takes his hand in hers, giving it a quick squeeze.

   “We'll be okay Fred.” Hermione continues to whisper, rather happy for the quiet moment they had, feeling suddenly like she could take on any pesky articles that may make itself known in the following weeks after the war. Hermione had a Weasley twin to back her up.

   Fred gave her a real smile now, his usual dimples showing up alongside his smirk. “Yes we will Granger, especially if I have the content of those pictures to look forward to.”

   The quietness of the kitchen was shattered with a loud slap and the sound of laughter, causing Mrs. Weasley to start from her spot on the couch.

 


	5. Hermione Weasley

_.: *Aparecium*\:. _

*.*.*

_ May, 1998 _

*.*.*

   In the week following the first announcement from the Ministry, the recovering wizarding world had adopted an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mentality. Most were wearing cuffs, or bracelets, or sleeves to hide their tattoos. Hermione wasn’t sure if they were hidden for the wearer, or for the public’s eye. It wasn’t unlikely to find someone in the streets of Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley who had yet to discover their soulmate, either unable to find their hidden partner, or were hiding themselves. The Ministry had released the records of all matches, available to the public eye, to force hiding partners to reveal themselves and begin the marriage law. Most people who went to look at it had another idea in mind than to perhaps find their own matches (as most tried to hide from the soul bond as it is). The reaction was immediate; The Golden Trio was bombarded by the media. Harry had moved from the Burrow to Grimmauld Place, with Mr. Weasley as the new secret keeper, as to keep his privacy extremely private. Ginny had held out another day before following him there, moving out of The Burrow to avoid being caught by interviews or grateful witches and wizards wanting to ask her questions about her and Harry on the way to visit him. 

   Ron took another approach to the harassment following them. He stayed at home most days, mostly becoming a hindrance to his mother, though Hermione suspected Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t kick him out, even if he ate her out of house and home. He was one of the wizards who had bought a cuff for his wrist as soon as the fashion item came about. His tattoo was easily concealable as it only wrapped once round his wrist. Hermione had only seen his tattoo once when the family had initially shown each other their marks. It had sharp edges, with small, skinny bird prints, hopping over the pointed lines of the mark. It wasn’t very telling, as they could be from any type of bird. Fleur had pointed out that they belonged to a bird of prey, as her own Patronus was a dove, and the marks on Bill’s wrist were much daintier than those on Ron’s. This information didn’t seem to lift Ron’s spirits any, so he stayed content in ignoring the marking on his wrist. 

   Hermione was still staying strong amongst the constant questions; the shock the wizarding world had received from learning she and Ron were not destined to be together had apparently rocked many of their ‘fans’. And while Ron dealt with this by staying home, Hermione refused to be locked away from the rest of the world, hiding from friends to avoid something that should be her private business. Ginny had heartily agreed, becoming a source of intrigue to the reporters now too, being Harry’s mate. Ginny thought the whole thing a hilarious joke, watching many of the reporters and interviewers scrambling around to appease her while she couldn’t care less. Hermione did not find it as amusing as her friend, but understood this was Ginny’s way of dealing with the invasion, and the two continued their daily visit outside of the Burrow and Grimmauld Place.

   The one thing she hadn’t accounted for during her week stuck in continuous harassment was Fred and George’s reaction to the fan base Hermione and Fred had somehow created. During one of their excursions outside, Ginny had decided the two girls should visit the twins’ shop for the afternoon. Hermione accepted after a moment of hesitation, but decided she couldn’t hide from Fred too; he was in the same boat as she, trying to understand their new relationship while avoiding contact with the rest of the world. The girls had snuck down to the store, only being stopped a few times before stepping into the booming store. Once inside the building, they were shocked at the amount of people that had managed to fit inside the store. They weren’t able to move an inch without being pushed or bumping into anyone. Ginny had pushed their way through, waving at Verity at the counter, and eventually finding a twin — George — and waving before making their way into the back room. They had only stayed fifteen minutes before George ushered them up to the apartment to use the Floo, none of them willing to go through the store to try and get them back home. 

   That had been three days ago, and Hermione hadn’t left the Burrow since. It was Friday morning, and she had already been awake for hours, before even Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley and Percy had already come and gone to the Ministry, Percy being one of the headers for the new Marriage Law keepers, helping the new couples deal with their next steps, was in high demand. The next down was an exhausted looking Mrs.Weasley, who by now wasn’t surprised to see Hermione up so early.

   “Good morning dear,” Mrs. Weasley yawned, setting up the kettle and taking down two mugs — one for Hermione — to ready some tea. 

   “Morning,” Hermione returned, and flipped the eggs of the griddle, at the same time her charmed whisk mixed the next batch up. 

   Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly after her first sip, watching the young witch making the family breakfast. “I’m so happy you’re here Hermione, heaven knows my own daughter wouldn't lift a pan to save her life.” Hermione couldn’t help the small snort that escaped, knowing Ginny took more after her youngest older brother in preferring to consume food than make it. Mrs. Weasley continued, effectively freezing Hermione in place, “Good thing too, I worry Fred and George don’t have a half a mind to feed themselves in between running that shop of theirs and blowing up the place. At least now you’ll have one, though probably both mind you, fattened up with your beautiful cooking, Hermione dear.” Mrs Weasley smiled at her once more before moving to seat herself in the living room, happy to hand over the morning routine to Hermione. 

   Hermione though was still frozen in shock, the cooking being left to the charmed pots and pans, now ladling in the next dozen eggs.  _ Cooking for Fred… oh, Merlin. Am I going to be a housewife?  _ She watched the happenings for only a moment longer before she decided she couldn’t overthink things. Launching herself at the pile of serving bowls Molly had set out for meals, Hermione filled the smallest one with the food she had just prepared, sealing it up before charming the rest of the food to stay warm for everyone else. 

   “Mrs. Weasley, I’m popping out for a bit. I’ll be home by dinner I’m sure, if you need my help again.” She stated quickly into the living area, not giving Molly a chance to say anything else as she ran out the Burrow to the apparition point, and disappeared with a ‘pop’.

* * *

 

   Fred’s morning could have gone better. He had been woken by George and Angelina arguing in the kitchen, their voices rising steadily through a whole hour of their rowing. He tried desperately to ignore them, but the constant complaints and nitpicking from Angelina and then from George drove him out of bed to interrupt them. He emerged from his room, bleary eyed and too lazy to find a shirt to throw on, walking in on the two. 

   George noticed his brother first, taking a step away from Angelina, running his hand through his hair in agitation, “Morning Freddie.” Fred nodded in greeting, too tired yet to speak. Angelina turned at George’s greeting, her complexion darkening in embarrassment at being caught in the middle of a row. Angelina also mumbled a greeting, stepping away from both boys, missing the exasperated look George gave his twin. Fred smirked and turned to the counter, bringing down the beginnings of breakfast.

   “Staying for food, Ang?” Fred asked, trying to appear cordial in the tense environment. George exchanged a look with Angelina, but allowed her to decide. Though not looking particularly happy about it, Angelina knew Fred was a decent cook, so she opted to stay. George left the two together, Fred guessed to take a shower and cool off. Angelina stood awkwardly in the kitchen, rocking back and forth on her feet.

   “Erm— we didn’t wake you up, did we?” Fred looked over his shoulder at his friend and only smiled, but it did grant him a smile from Angelina as well. “Sorry. It’s stupid, this whole marriage thing. I think we both just hit the tipping point at the same time…”

   “You and George are matched?” Fred stopped what he was doing, turning his attention to Angelina. If possible, the poor girl flushed further but nodded. Fred was floored for a moment, thinking back to him and George at Hogwarts, and Fred taking Angelina to the Yule Ball to try and get her to go out with his brother.  “Blimey, maybe these things do have something to do with souls.”

   Angelina gave him a strange look, “What do you mean?”

   “You can’t say you honestly haven't known Georgie’s had a thing for you since fifth year?” Fred gave her a look, well aware she had also harboured a crush on his twin. Angelina didn’t answer, but wouldn’t meet Fred’s eyes, and that was good enough an answer for him.

   “What did you mean about the souls? Do you think it could be something different, or random?” Angelina took a seat at the kitchen island, pulling up one of the tall stools surrounding the large counter. Fred took a seat next to her, forgetting about the breakfast he was meant to be making.

   “There has to be some random chance mixed in, otherwise how could some of these pairs have been thought up? Once they matched the actual “soul mates”, the rest of us got mashed together.” He grumbled, and Angelina frowned at this statement, trying to understand Fred’s negativity.

   “Fred, who did you get matched with?”

   “Hermione—” Angelina gave him a startled look, at the same time Fred was interrupted by the Floo in his living room coming to life, spitting out the aforementioned witch. “Well, speak of the witch,” he mumbled, getting out of his seat to help Hermione into the flat. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, Hermione shoved one of his mother’s serving bowls into his chest. Fred clutched the bowl, giving the contents an appreciative look and threw Angelina a grin over his shoulder.

   “Now you’ll really stay for food, mum sent breakfast.” He grinned widely, Angelina rolled her eyes, and Hermione glared at the man. 

   “No,  _ I  _ sent breakfast. Your mother is happily chowing down on the food I made this morning, thank you very much.” Hermione snarked and let herself in, seating herself at the island with Angelina. The older witch watched her with interest, a gleam in her eye that did not go unnoticed by Fred. Ignoring her completely, Fred snatched a sweater from the couch before following Hermione into the kitchen and seating himself in the same chair he had vacated, which now happened to be the one next to the chair Hermione had chosen.

   “Besides eating the wonderful food you have provided us, how can I assist you m’lady?” Fred nudged Hermione’s arm, hoping to gain a smile from the girl, but instead only received a glare. “What did I do?” He asked, though the question was posed towards both Hermione and Angelina. Hermione huffed while Angelina got a giddy look on her face, like her favourite Quidditch team had just been announced to play.

   “You haven’t done anything, Fred Weasley,” Hermione shot another glare at him, but this one much softer, “ _ yet. _ ”

   Fred threw his hands in the air, “What does that even mean?” Angelina chortled, while George decided now was a good time to enter the room, and watched his brother's partner tear into him.

   “It means, I’ve come to have an epiphany this morning, Mr. Weasley, and let’s just say, if you  _ ever _ force me to become your housewife, and have seven children and spend the first how many years of my life raising and feeding them, you have another thing coming.” Hermione finished her speech with a menacing finger pointed at Fred’s nose, causing the poor boy to go cross eyed trying to focus on it, and her threat. Angelina couldn't contain her laughter any longer, giggling like mad at the two in front of her. George grinned at his brother and future sister-in-law and his own future wife creating the pretty picturesque version of what their soon to be future could be like.

   “And a good morning to you as well, Granger.” George chirped from his position just outside the room, gaining himself a proper hello from Hermione as he walked in and dropped a quick chaste kiss to the top of her head. “Mum give you the riot act then? Asked how many grandchildren she should be expecting?” Fred choked on his tea, and George grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes, but agreed with his almost accurate version of her conversation with Mrs. Weasley this morning. 

   Angelina looked a bit startled at George’s story, “Did she really ask how many children you were meant to have?” she gave Hermione her nervous attention, biting at her bottom lip, but stopping when she notices Fred grinning at her.

   Hermione gave the older witch a strange look before understanding lit her eyes, “Oh, have you and George been matched up?” She looks to Fred for assurance and receives a nod as he takes a sip of tea, “That’s wonderful! At least I know the witch I’m going to be spending my life with.” Angelina gave her a startled look, but seemed happier in the situation as well.

   Fred looked slightly offended, getting a startled chuckle from George, “I think your bird is inferring we spend too much time together, Forge.”

   “Funny, Granger,” Fred grumbles, but his offended air has disappeared, though Hermione didn't seem to notice. She had already turned to Angelina once more, discussing the lovely, but pushy style of Mrs. Weasley.

   “I don’t think she meant to sound so bossy, but the thought of having to stay at home and feed the twins—  because honestly where there’s one there will be the other— everyday without any care for myself!”

   Angelina looked thoughtful, nodding along with everything Hermione was saying. George began to look concerned, sharing glances with his twin, who was still watching the girls talk. “I may be wrong Forge, but I think we may be in trouble.”

   “I think you may be right, Gred.” Fred murmured, but eventually handed George a spoon, and offered the other half of the breakfast Hermione had delivered. Once everyone had their fill, Hermione began giving Fred looks he couldn't decipher, not understanding the silent pleading she was pulling with her gorgeous brown eyes. He took another moment to watch the chocolate colour until she began to frown at him in exasperation.

   “Granger, what—?” Fred was cut off by Angelina.

   “George, may I speak to you in the other room please?” Hermione had never seen George look so serious as he watched Angelina before nodding and taking her down to the shop for some privacy before the boys had to open shop. The couple shut the door softly behind them, their footsteps heard all the way down the spiral staircase. Once their movements could no longer be heard, Hermione turned and smacked Fred’s shoulder in irritation.

 

   “Ouch —- woman, are you mental. What did I do now?!” Fred complained, and stole a scone from Hermione’s plate in vengeance, glaring at her, daring her to try and take it back. Hermione cracked a grin, but didn’t fight him for the pastry. 

   “Did you not notice Angelina wanted to speak to George?” Hermione asked, but Fred looked lost. “Honestly, Fred, you may be as thick as Ron.”

   Fred indeed looked very offended, and poked at Hermione’s sides, tickling her mercilessly, “Take that back, Miss Granger.”

   “Never!” Hermione shouts, trying fruitlessly to reach his sides and get him back. “Damn your long arms!” She can’t seem to stop giggling, and it makes Fred’s chest hurt, hearing the girlish laughter leaving this war torn woman. Her struggles caused her arms to become flaccid, and he took the chance to wrap her up in his ‘damn long arms’, pulling her completely off her stool to seat her on his lap. 

   “Now, Miss Granger, because of your easy capture, you are required to tend to me till my heart’s content.” Fred teased, ignoring the deep blush peeking out from the shoulder of Hermione’s jumper. Hermione herself was vehemently trying to tamp down the tightness sitting in her belly, wanting to wiggle around in her seat, or turn around to face Fred. 

   “Fred, please let me move.” 

   “Not possible, sorry love.”

   “Fredrick!” Hermione whines, and this time Fred lets her arms go uncrossed, but lays his arms still around her middle, keeping her sitting on his lap. Hermione waits, as does Fred, each waiting to see if the other will move. After a silence, and neither moving an inch, Hermione performs a quarter turn, so she can completely face Fred if she were to look to her right. 

   “Hi,” he whispers, making a small grin lift the corner of Hermione’s lips.

   “Hello.” she answers back quietly. Fred smiles, and leans in to rest his chin on her shoulder, bringing their faces that much closer.

   “This alright?” he continues to whisper, enjoying the healthy silence they created. 

   “Sure,” Hermione whispers back, unable to look away from any part of his face. She had never had much chance at Hogwarts to watch the twins, or the inclination to just trace his features. His nose was long and thin, perfect sharp edges creating a near symmetrical face, and had hundreds of tiny freckles all over the bridge and over and under his eyes. Years of joy and laughter had made deep crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes, giving the illusion of a smile no matter what expression he chose to wear. And his eyes, she noticed, while the same shade of brown as George’s, had a lovely ring of gold around the rim that couldn't possibly be replicated. 

   “‘Mione?” Fred’s whisper shocked her back to reality, and she couldn’t stop the blush that made its way over her cheeks.  _ Merlin, how long have I been staring? _

   “Mmhmm?” she hums instead, unsure if he noticed her gawking. 

   “Why did you bring breakfast?” 

   “Huh?” Hermione moved her head back a bit, unprepared for the honest question, rather than the tease she had expected. Fred only smiled, and tightened his arms around her waist, digging his nose into her shoulder, facing away from her neck. 

   “Did mum make you bring us breakfast?” Fred mumbled into her jumper, the itchy wool his mum had used for this one scratching the tip of his nose. Hermione watched him, smiling a bit at the childish action. 

   “No— I was up hours before her, and had everything almost completely done, and she came over to praise me, which was lovely of her by the way, and then mentioned how glad she was I was going to be ‘fattening you up’ for the rest of our lives.” Hermione knew she sounded a bit fed up, but Fred stifled a laugh anyway, his head still burrowed in her shoulder. “And she didn’t mention kids, by the way, but that’s exactly where my mind went.”

   Fred nodded along, understanding exactly why she had come over now, “So you came over to talk about it.” Hermione nodded, then realized Fred probably couldn't feel the movement and agreed aloud. “Alright, well, I get the feeling this conversation is going to be a heavy one.” Fred says as he raises his head, and takes his arms off her waist for her to move. Hermione stays where she is, willing her legs to move before it becomes awkward. Fred hides the smile he feels coming on, waiting as Hermione finally moves and takes her tea and his, trailing into the living room. 

   Fred follows her in, waiting for her to take a seat before he goes into his room and pulls on a pair of joggers, hoping by dressing more decently, Hermione may not be as embarrassed. He returns to the living room, and finds Hermione had pulled the low table closer to the couch and their tea and a plate of scones and biscuits were next to them.

   “I see what mum means,” he says, and Hermione turns around to watch him walk into the room, “at this rate I might have to seriously consider joining Quidditch again.” He grabs a scone and scarfs it down.

   Hermione rolls her eyes, ‘Just sit down’ is all she says. Fred takes a seat in the middle of the couch, giving Hermione the option to sit as near him as she likes. Only hesitating a moment, Hermione sits in the corner of the couch and swings her legs into Fred’s lap. Fred grins at her and tweaks her toes, “Well played, Granger.” 

   Hermione rolls her eyes a bit, but sticks to the plan, “That brings up my first question—”

   “Not going to raise your hand, then?” 

   She rolls her eyes, “Do you want me to take your name?” Hermione continues as if he hadn't interrupted. Fred gives her a look, wrinkling up his nose.

   “Do  _ you  _ want to take my name?” He turns to question back at her, and receives a look he’d rather not receive again.

   “Fred, that is maddeningly unhelpful.” 

   “It’s up to you Hermione, you’re the one that will be using it at work or introductions or whatever.” Hermione stays silent, digesting this idea, while Fred watches her, waiting. “Hermione Weasley.” he says, testing it out for her, and finding he suddenly  _ really _ likes the sound of that. 

   Hermione shrugs, still unsure but not unwilling to think about it. “Okay, we’ll leave that. How about, where are we going to live?”

   Fred looks around his apartment he shares with his brother, realizing they won't be sharing it much longer, “Well, I suppose we could stay here until we find something else, or until after the weddings. But I have a feeling having two married couples in a two room flat won’t work for long.”

   “I agree,” Hermione nods, moving her bum down the couch a bit so she could lay into the armrest of the chair, “but should we look now, or later? And should we be looking for a real house, do you think?” 

   Fred sighs and pulls her feet over his lap so they sit next to his legs rather than on them, but in the process, pulls Hermione down further, pushing her bum into the side of his leg, “I’m not sure, but I have a feeling this leads up to another big question.”

   Hermione purses her lips, “Having a baby?” Fred cringes a bit, but nods. Hermione doesn't say anything, and Fred stays silent. “It’s part of the law.”

   “I know it is,” Fred sighs, “but it’s still hard to think about.” 

   “Yeah,” Hermione agrees and sips at her tea. “So, a small house, then?”

   “Sounds reasonable.” Fred nods, surprised this is going so smoothly. Who knew Hermione Granger could be so calm through this? He grins, suddenly feeling a bit more daring, “Unless of course you can’t keep your hands off me and we follow in my parent’s footsteps. We might even beat their record of seven.”

   Hermione quickly reaches for the cushion next to her and brings it down on his head, “That’s quite enough out of you, young man.” She releases the pillow, allowing Fred to peek out from under it. 

   "Yes, dear.” Fred grins from under the pillow, and Hermione snorts into her tea. Fred watches her recover, and offers a genuine smile this time. “Hermione?”

   “Hmm?”

   “I think we’re going to be okay.” 


	6. Kneazles and Kooks

_.: *Aparecium*\:. _

*.*.*

_ May, 1998 _

*.*.*

 

   The two stayed together for the rest of the morning, sitting together on the couch, and moving to Fred’s room eventually once Fred was reminded by George that the store was opening in an hour. Fred now found himself behind his closet door, pulling on the horrid striped trousers that contrasted his twins, to match their work jackets. 

   Hermione yelled something to him through the cracked open door, and he strained to hear her, “Are you saying you want to name our children after George?” Hermione asked incredulously, making Fred grin like a madman. He peeked around the door, spotting Hermione laying across his bed, hands clasped over her stomach, and feet swinging a good foot above the ground. The vision was too adorable, but Fred ignored the need pressing in his chest to go to her, instead continuing their conversation from behind the door. 

   “Of course. George and I have had this planned for years.” He ducks behind the closet door again, grabbing his dress shirt and tie before stepping out completely from the closet. Hermione lifted herself from the bed, leaning on her elbows. 

   “That’s going to be very confusing at Sunday dinners.” He guffaws at her, throwing his tie onto the bed next to her. 

   Beginning to button his shirt, Fred answers cheekily, “Well we’d call them Fred II and George II, obviously. Keep up Granger.” Hermione glared through her cheeky grin, tossing a pillow at him. 

   “Obviously.” Hermione cheeks back, sitting up on the bed to cross her legs underneath her, “Come here,” she pats the bed next to her, inviting him to sit. Lifting a brow, Fred seats himself next to her, just finishing the second last button on his shirt. Hermione bats his hands away, surprising him (and herself) by buttoning the last button at his collar. Without pause, Hermione grabs the tie he had chosen from next to her, draping it around his collar and began fiddling with the knot.

   “How do you know how to tie these?” Fred chokes out, clearing his throat when he feels her fingers drift over his skin for a moment as she flips the fabric around. Hermione keeps focused on the knot she’s creating rather than getting flustered by the closeness between them.

   “My dad taught me how when I was younger. It came in handy in our fourth year when Harry had no idea how to tie one.” She explained and all Fred could do was nod, and wait for her to finish. Hermione flattened the knot and ran her hand down the length of the tie to make it lie flat on his chest. “There you are,”

   “Thanks,” he whispers, looking down at the perfectly tied tie, “looks better than I’ve ever been able to do it. Might have to hire you full time.” Fred grins at her, gaining back the cheeky flirt they had established already. 

   “We’ll see.” Hermione smiles down at her lap, drawing her hands back into herself, “Anyways, George II? And do you really think Angelina will go for Fred II?”

   Fred laughs, “Course she will, I have too much blackmail on her for her to deny me.” 

   “And if they end up with a girl?” 

   “Fredrika is a lovely name.”

   “You prat.” Hermione rolls her eyes, swinging her legs off the bed and hopping up. She holds her hands out to give him a hand up, which he takes and pulls her into him instead. “Fred! You have to get to work.” 

   Fred sticks out his tongue childishly, releasing her waist and really getting up this time. “Fine, goody two-shoes.”

   They both left the bedroom to the empty flat, which meant George was already downstairs. Fred immediately left to join him, while Hermione put on some tea. Fred hopped down the stairs, meeting George as well as Verity at the front tills. 

   “Morning Fred,” Verity greeted, counting the morning float in the tills before they opened the doors. Fred greeted her back, pulling his dragon-scale jacket from its peg sticking out of the staircase behind them. George spun around once the jacket was placed over his twins shoulders, coddling something in his arms. Fred froze, staring at the thing George was holding so tightly.

   “What. In Merlin’s name. Is that?” He pointed accusingly at the black mass, with large pointed ears. George pouted, shoving the furry thing into Fred’s face. 

   “Please Freddie, can I keep it?” George pouted, holding what Fred now recognized as a strange looking cat. It’s face was split straight down the centre with one half black and the other orange, with eyes that also did not match as blue and green. 

   “Seeing as that is a cat, absolutely not Georgie.” Fred glared at his twin, and then at the tiny kitten purring smugly in his arms. “I  _ hate _ cats, George, you are not keeping that thing in here.” Fred pointed accusingly at the feline, who only blinked owlishly back at him. George glared at Fred, cuddling the cat closer to his cheek, giving it a cuddle.

   “Don’t listen to that mean old man, sweetheart, I’ll hide you, and feed you, and cuddle you all the time. Mean ol’ Freddie won’t have to bug you ever again.” George cooed to the cat, accepting the fluffy headbutt the cat gives him as it continues purring into his chest. Verity was trying to hide her giggles behind the cash register, ignoring Fred’s glare. 

   “No.” 

   “Yes. You can’t legally stop me!” George yelled as he ran to the other side of the counter across from Fred and Verity.

   “But I can stop you physically!” Fred tried to vault over the counter, but Verity stops him with a glare of her own, motioning to the stacks of coins she has yet to put safely into the register. Fred slumps back to the floor and decides rather to go around the counter to try and snatch George. 

   “Is Hermione still upstairs?” George asks as he takes a second lap around the counter, evading Fred’s snatching hands. Fred pauses, head cocked to the side in complete confusion.

   “Yeah…” George nods, while Fred squints at him, trying to figure him out. George looks up, mischief gleaming in his eyes, and Fred suddenly knows. “No! Don’t you dare!” he yells at his brother, already trying to once more make it over the counter to stop him. George grins and bolts up the stairs towards the apartment, Fred only inches behind him. Verity can’t stop laughing now, and sets herself up to begin opening the store on her own just in case the boys took awhile. 

 

* * *

   Hermione was humming an old jazz song her mum used to sing around their home when she visited from school on the holidays. The kettle was just beginning to whistle as she opened the tin she knew George stashed his favourite biscuits in, swiping a few to add to the tea tray. Not really hungry enough to be eating, but also very aware she was still very underweight, Hermione indulged on the dry cookie as she fixed up her own tea. 

   The apartment door swung open, startling Hermione enough to upset the second cup she was pouring for Fred, spilling the contents over the counter. George and Fred burst through in a tumble, George cradling something to his chest as Fred tried to reach over his shoulders and around his arms to reach whatever it was. 

   “Boys! What on earth are you doing?” Hermione yelled over them, furiously cleaning up the spilled tea. 

   George broke free long enough to scramble up and kneel in front of Hermione, having only enough time to say, “Hermione, please, tell him I can keep it!”, before being tackled once more by Fred. 

   “Fred, get off your brother, for goodness sake! What are you two doing?” Hermione screeched, forgetting about the tea in order to pry the twins apart. Fred sprung from George, planting himself between he and Hermione.

   “”Mione, love, tell him no. Don’t look at it, just say no!” Fred yelped when George leaned over and pinched him, gaining the higher ground once more. He took his chance, and tossed the furball to Hermione, who only just caught it in time. Hermione looked down at the kitten in shock, before her shoulders drooped and her eyebrows dropped, and Fred knew he was sunk. 

   “Aww! George, he’s precious!” Hermione cooed, nuzzling at the kitten’s ears, which flattened out at her words, “oh, sorry,  _ she _ is precious.” Hermione smiled at the kitten, which meowed back in agreement. 

   George untangled himself from his brother, popping up from the floor to stand next to Hermione, and pet the cat’s ears, “Isn’t she just? I had to get her away from the mean twin. Poor thing was going to get thrown out the door when Freddie saw her.”

   Fred looked like he wanted to strangle his brother in that moment, but George only smiled serenely. Hermione’s jaw dropped, and her bushy hair whipped towards Fred in outrage. “Fredrick Gideon Weasley! You were  _ not _ going to throw it out?!”

   Fred’s jaw flapped about, trying to come up with a response that wouldn't set him back three steps with the beautiful witch, but came up with nothing. George grinned, taking the kitten back from Hermione, who pet its ears back once more. George passed them both, heading towards his room to drop off the kitten. Fred glared at his brother as he passed, swiping at the hem on his heels. 

   “Prat,” Fred hisses, smacking George before his twin could jump out of the way. 

   “Fred, leave George alone. George, go back down to the shop, and stop teasing your brother.” Hermione scolded, turning back to the tea she had prepared, handing one to Fred who was still kneeling, sulking, on the ground. Slightly surprised by the neutral ‘olive branch’ she was handing him, Fred took the tea and spread himself out on the ground, ignoring George when he passed him by to return to the store. 

   Hermione took a seat next to Fred on the floor, her lips twisted trying not to laugh. She took a sip of her own tea before saying, “Not very fond of cats, huh?”

   Fred sighed through his nose, dropping his head into his free hand. Hermione snorted at his reaction, rubbing between his shoulder blades. He leaned back into her, resting his head on her shoulder as he diligently drank his tea, silently enjoying the attention.

   “You do realize I own a cat, right?” Hermione eventually says, squeezing the top of his shoulder. Fred sighed and nodded.

   “Yes, but that cat already doesn’t like me. I feel like I have an agreement with Crookshanks; Don’t touch him, he won’t touch me.”

   Hermione only shook her head, “Fred, cat’s aren’t bad creatures. Besides, Crooks is half Kneazle, so he’s really quite intelligent. So George’s kitten is bound to be just like him, seeing as she’s part Kneazle too…”

   Fred stopped her, “Seriously, only George would manage to pick out a stray that could potentially have abandonment issues.” 

   Hermione slapped at his shoulder before resuming her half massage, “Not all Kneazles are so needy, she won’t cause problems. Besides, George will most likely take the kitten with him when he moves out with Angelina, and then you’ll only have to make nice with Crookshanks.”

   Fred glared playfully at his fiancee, “Gee, that makes me feel so much better, Granger, thanks.”

   Hermione nodded very seriously, “You’re welcome, Mr. Weasley.”

   Fred pushed her over, catching her mug as she let out a squeal and landed on the rug. 

* * *

   Hermione skipped down the stairs with Fred on her heels, turning the corner to stand just behind the counter where George was standing, just finishing up with a customer. Fred snuck behind his brother to retrieve Hermione’s light jacket, handing it to her over the counter top.

   George gave Fred the stink eye, but there was a devilish twinkle in his eye, “Is my cat still alive?” 

   Hermione rolled her eyes, unaware Fred was doing the same thing over her head, “Yes, George, she is still perfectly safe in your bedroom.” George nodded severely, giving Fred one more look before smiling at the next customer to step up to them to pay for their muggle fireworks. Fred rolled his eyes once more for Hermione’s benefit, before leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips. 

   “Bye, love. Tell mum we won’t be there for dinner, yeah?” Fred says as he lead her around the counter, hand on the dip of her back as she guided her jacket over her shoulders and began making her way through the crowd. Nodding, Hermione waved a goodbye to George and Verity, gave Fred a kiss on the cheek, and left for the Burrow, feeling elated at the closeness she and Fred had found.

   As she made her way out of the shop, Hermione noticed a few more people than normal were crowded around the shop window. Looking back at the display, Hermione didn’t notice anything glaringly new, and wondered what the twins had managed to do to gain so much attention. Continuing on her way, Hermione stopped at Flourish & Blotts to pick up something new to read for the next few days at the Burrow, realizing the days after may begin to get hectic with all the wedding planning that would have to go on. 

   She only spent a few minutes in the shop, but by the time she exited with two new books in a small cloth bag, the bookshop had another fifteen people or so moving in to fill the space she had just exited. Looking over her shoulder, Hermione frowned, beginning to feel distressed when she didn't notice what could have caused such a crowd once more. Deciding to wait and see, Hermione waited outside the shop until one of the young witches she noticed enter just before her came outside.

   “Excuse me, could I bother you for a moment?” Hermione asked politely, placing her hand just on the other witches arm to get her attention. The girl whipped round, her eyes going large when she spotted Hermione.

   “Oh Merlin, you’re Hermione Granger!” She squeaked, startling Hermione enough that she dropped her hand and recoiled just a bit.

   “Er, yes, I am. I was just wondering what the ruckus was in the book shop? I didn’t notice any brand new releases.” Hermione remained civil, though the witch she was speaking to seemed to be starting to hyperventilate. 

   “Oh my gosh, no, I just wanted to get the same book! I’ve heard so much about you, I wanted to get the same book so I could read it when you did! Imagine what the girls at school will say when I tell them I bought it  _ right  _ after  _ the  _ Hermione Granger!” The girl was practically squealing now, clutching her book bag to her chest.

   Hermione was shocked. A heavy feeling rested in her chest as she remembered the people that had been standing outside the twins’ shop when she had left, and her mind connected a couple of the witches there standing around her now. 

   The girl continued to chat, unaware of how uncomfortable she was making Hermione, “How do you get your hair like that? My friend thinks it’s  _ so  _ sexy, and I think so too! But I can’t get mine to possibly do the same thing!”

   “Right,” Hermione started, backing up quickly now, holding her books more closely, “well, thank you, but I’m going to go, um.” Hermione pointed over her shoulder in an undetermined place, and spun to go wherever she could, as fast as she could. She rounded a corner near Gringotts, and waited in the small alleyway, in case any of her followers were still behind her. Once she noticed five alone pass by her hiding spot, Hermione sighed heavily and Apparated away. 

   The Burrow’s Apparition point came up to her in a blur, and only once she had landed did Hermione notice it was because she was crying. Exhaustion took over her, and her knees shook, but she grit her teeth and walked the small path towards the Weasley home, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. Pocketing her wand and still clutching her book sack, Hermione swung the front door open, revealing herself to the dining room occupants. 

   Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Fleur were all seated around the table, cups of tea sitting in front of them. Each forgot about their drinks though, when Hermione burst into tears in front of them. 

   “Hermione!” Ginny exclaims, scrambling up from her seat to rush to her friend. In the meantime, Hermione had already pulled herself together, wiping her eyes, trying to stand up straight. “Merlin, what happened?”

   Hermione tried to wave her off, trying to ignore her small breakdown, “Nothing big, don’t worry about it.”

   Ginny reeled back, confusion and doubt on her face, “ _ Nothing?  _ Hermione, you’ve been crying, that’s obviously not nothing if it made Hermione Granger cry.” She swung her arm around her friend, bringing her over to her mother and sister-in-law. Fleur moved to sit pressed against Hermione, aware from her stint at Shell Cottage, exactly the kind of silent comfort Hermione appreciated. 

   “Do not hold it in, chere, it iz better to let it out.” Fleur whispers into her young friend's hair, petting a few strands back behind Hermione’s ear. In Fleur’s credit, Hermione did feel more calm after the familiar comfort, so close to how her mother used to play with her unruly hair. She had always told Hermione how jealous she was of her daughter’s curls, her own hair sleek and always cut into a short pixie cut. 

   With Fleur’s boost to her confidence, Hermione settled herself in for a rather horrid recount of her upset. Ginny and Fleur listened carefully, smiling gently when Hermione started with a recount of her morning with the twins and Angelina. Ginny laughed at a few points, and became very excited at the small story of the new kitten. Fleur watched her face as she began the story of stepping outside and running into her first crowd.

    “Goodness, that many?” Mrs. Weasley started, hand fluttering at her chest, “how these people even think what they are doing is alright.”

   “Mum, they’re just curious. But,” Ginny gave a worried look at Hermione again, “even I admit this was a bit overboard. Honestly, following Hermione into a  _ book _ store? Could they have been more obvious?”

   Hermione gave Ginny a small smile, and stayed leaning into Fleur’s side. The comfort of these women was something she realized she had craved for the past few weeks during all this madness. One on one time, again reminding her of her mother. 

   “I miss my mum,” Hermione whispers, though only Fleur seems to hear her. 

   Fleur pets her hair back from her face, slicking it back to uncover her entire face, “Oh cherie, why have you not contacted ‘zem? Do they still not know of the war we’ve completed?”

   Hermione knew Fleur meant well, but her face flamed in shame and perhaps regret, “No, they left, before… They went into hiding before I left with Harry and Ron.” 

   Ginny stood to grab parchment and a quill, “Well, let’s write them now then, eh? It’ll make you feel better I bet.”

   Only, this did not make Hermione feel any better, if anything, it made her feel worse. Her parents were missing; Kingsley had graciously sent out an Auror to recover them from Australia once the war had finished weeks ago. It was now mid-June, and there was still no word of the Granger’s, or, well, the Wilkinson's. Hermione told them as much and received shocked silences from all three women. 

   “Oh Hermione.” Ginny sighed, slumping down beside her best friend, and hugging her as tightly as she could. Fleur still had not let go, but her grip became just as strong as her sister-in-law’s. Mrs. Weasley had tears in her misty brown eyes, but stayed strong for her girls, suddenly feeling all the strength she had raising her boys for these young witches in front of her. If these girls needed a mother, than damn it all, Molly Weasley was ready for more children. 

   “Now, you never mind this, Miss Granger. You’re a Gryffindor for a reason! Everything will work out for itself, but in the meantime, you’re of course staying right here. I’ll be needing all the help I can get with all these upcoming weddings! Mind you, one of them is your own, Hermione, but I have no doubt you’ll be very helpful with the rest…” Mrs. Weasley wandered off, muttering to herself all the things she needed to get done, as if the weddings were next week. 

   Hermione looked up wide eyed at Ginny, who looked like she was trying not to bust out laughing. Fleur’s lips were twisted up in a playful grin, already quite aware of the whirlwind that was Molly Weasley when planning her sons' weddings. 


	7. Chapter 7

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

_ May, 1998 _

*.*.*

Dinner came quickly after the impractical afternoon tea between the four women. Mr. Weasley had arrived home earlier than usual, coming into the kitchen to giggles and whispers. He was stunned to see the four, including his wife, trifling through magazines and boxes of what looked like lace. 

“Afternoon ladies,” he greeted them, getting waves and smiles from each. He stepped up behind his wife, kissing the top of her head and tried to peek at what they were up to. “What do we have here?” 

Mrs. Weasley giddily waved her hand around the table, “The girls decided to start our planning, Arthur.”

Ginny looked playfully affronted, “ _ We _ decided? Excuse me mother, who ran upstairs for a box of bloody  _ lace _ ?” Hermione and Fleur broke into giggles, too happy drunk to care they may sound ridiculous. Hermione stood still as Fleur held a small bit of lace up to Hermione's hair, bunching it up into something that resembled a rose. 

Hermione grabbed the bunch from Fleur, looking at it in interest, “That’s lovely, Fleur. I should show these to Angelina. She’d probably love these in her hair.” 

Fleur gave her a confused frown but continued making more. Ginny frowned too, “When were you talking to Angelina? I haven’t heard from her in forever.” 

Hermione fiddled with a piece of blue fabric she had found, “I ran into her this morning.”

“I thought you were with Fred and George?” Fleur asked, pronouncing George with a leftover French accent she couldn’t shake when pronouncing the hard 'G’ in her brother-in-law’s name. 

“I was.”

“Then why was…” Ginny started to ask, but stopped dead, looking at Hermione wide-eyed, “No. Angelina and George?!”

Mrs. Weasley looked all aflutter, waving her hands around the table at the magazine’s, becoming excited at the prospect of knowing another future daughter-in-law. She started moving things around, and handed a blank bit of parchment to Hermione to ‘invite that girl here, right now!’. As Hermione wrote a quick note to Angelina and handed it off to Pig, she made sure to mention the disagreement Angelina had had with George this morning. 

“They’ve always been like that, Hermione.” Ginny waved her off. Hermione wasn’t as sure since she didn’t know the reason for the fight since Fred hadn’t really known either. 

“Oh Hermione, dear, can you send a note to the twins as well? Ask them when they’re coming home for dinner.”

“Oh, they're staying at the apartment tonight. I think they were planning a few new things for the shop.”  Mrs. Weasley looked outraged that she wouldn’t have a full nest, and grabbed some parchment to send to the twins herself.  While she was busy, Bill entered the Burrow, home from work, Hermione thought. 

Reacting much like his father, Bill looked around the kitchen dining room at each of the girls, confusion and perhaps bemusement covering his face, “I’d expect this from mum and my wife, but never from you two. I’d have thought you would rather be rolling in the mud outside, Gin.” Bill leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of Fleur’s head and ruffled Ginny’s hair as he passed on his way to the cupboard. Ginny swatted at him, while Hermione gave him a patient smile, knowing full well he was only trying to tease his sister. 

“You never mind Bill; these girls are going to have a big job with all these weddings coming up, it’ll do you good to mind your tongue or you’ll find yourself helping.” Molly tutted, scolding her eldest, as well as tapping him away from the counter. “And it’s nearly dinner, get out of the kitchen.”

Bill scowled behind his mother’s back, getting a snicker from Fleur and Ginny. Hermione smiled as well but pointed Bill to the living room, where she knew there was a tray of cookies sitting untouched on the low table. Bill grinned and pulled a stray curl of hers in thanks as he passed. Fleur watched him turn the corner before returning to her work, a worried frown marring her porcelain clear face. 

“Is everything alright, Fleur?” Hermione whispered, so no one else could hear them. Fleur glanced up at Hermione in a bit of a start but assured the younger witch there was nothing wrong. 

“It iz truly nothing, ‘Ermione. Bill has been having a tougher time at work, iz all. I think it may be because of being away from family during the long hours…” Fleur cut herself off when Bill returned to the dining room, taking a seat next to her. Hermione removed herself from the conversation, and instead leafed through the bridal mag she had been looking through the whole time. She wasn’t feeling very invested in any of the decors, or dresses, or  _ lace _ (Merlin, there was a  _ lot  _ of lace). The efforts Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Fleur had gone through to make her feel better had only helped a little, she was still feeling the effects of being followed around so closely. 

A half hour later of talking over things she still had no interest in, there was a knock on the front porch door. Ginny popped up to answer and came back into the room with Angelina. 

“Oh, Angelina, dear, it’s so good to see you!” Mrs. Weasley popped over to the girl, giving her a large, warm hug. Angelina returned it, already well aware of the motherly affection Mrs. Weasley liked to give out. 

“It’s lovely to see you too, Mrs. Weasley.” Angelina returned, getting a wave from Mrs. Weasley.

“Call me Molly, dear. Though I’m still training Harry and Hermione, so I suspect you’ll be just as stubborn with it.” She gave the girl a smirk, mischief twinkling in her eyes. Angelina shook her head with a matching grin, moving to join the others in the kitchen. She greeted Ginny, and nodded a hello to Fleur and Bill, before plopping herself right next to Hermione, propping her head up on her hand.

“Haven’t seen you in forever.” Angelina cheeked, causing a laugh to erupt from Hermione. 

“Yeah, these past three hours have been so difficult. Promise to never leave me again?” She cheeked right back, receiving a grin from Angelina. 

“Deal. Now, what do you have here?” Angelina grabbed the mag from Hermione, flipping to the cover page, and wrinkling her nose up when she noticed exactly what it was. “Gross, did you invite me over here to torture me?”

“If I have to do it, you have to do it,” Hermione replied flippantly, grabbing another magazine from Ginny’s pile, which had grown to overcome her and her mother’s. 

“Girl, you’re killing me. I’m sure we could convince the twins to elope, and we wouldn't have to deal with all this.” Angelina waved a hand over the mess, “You grab one, and I’ll grab the other, and we’ll make a run for it.” 

“That may have worked if you hadn’t said it around these three.” Hermione didn’t even look up from her reading, just nodded her head at the three affronted looking witches starring the two down. 

“Damn.” Angelina cussed under her breath but received laughs from everyone anyway. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

It was another two hours before everything was packed up for later, and dinner was started. Hermione joined Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen like normal, chopping onions under a small shield charm. Mrs. Weasley was rushing back and forth, worrying of the late hour now and having to feed her whole brood closer to half seven rather than six. Hermione had said a fair few times now not to worry, everyone would still be fine by then and would welcome the food all the more. 

By now, Harry, Ron, and Percy had arrived to sit with the rest of the family. The latter from his job at the Ministry, while Harry and Ron had been at Hogwarts, helping clean up the castle. Charlie had arrived just before them, getting ragged on my Mrs. Weasley for dripping mud all over her carpets. 

Next and last to arrive were the twins, bouncing out of the Floo, wearing mismatched clothing, rather than matching one another. George looked like he had just stripped off his work jacket and hadn't bothered to change out of the rest. Fred was wearing muggle slacks and an old hoodie over top of his work shirt and his still perfectly tied tie. And while their clothing was clean, George’s hair was blown back, and charred at the tips, as if something had exploded in his face. Fred was chuckling at his brother still when they landed in their mother’s house, though his arms were also black with gun powder soot, the fine hair on his arms burnt off.  

“Merlin, what happened to you two?” Ron asked from his spot on the floor, facing Harry in their game of Exploding Snap. George glared at his younger brother, while Fred continued to grin a mischievous smile.

“I lost a bet.” George grumbled, flopping onto the couch between Ginny and Angelina, who wrinkled her nose at the dirt leaning against her. 

“And I expect payment by the end of the week, brother dear.” Fred pipes up on his way past everyone, naturally coasting into the kitchen where he had a feeling a certain witch was working. 

Seeing Hermione standing at the counter, and his mother nowhere to be seen, Fred hopped up behind her and slipped his hands around her hips. 

“Well hello fiancee,” he greeted cheekily, kissing the top of her bushy-haired head. Starting a bit, Hermione smacks at one of his hands as penance for scaring her.

“Hello fiance,” Hermione twists to see him face to face, noting his canary-eating grin, “what have you been up to this afternoon?”

“Inventing.” 

“Anything work?”

“Not for George,” Fred grins like a madman once again, and Hermione catches the mood, laughing along with him. Fred smiles wider hearing her laughter and hugs her close, reveling in his ability to do such a thing. He stays content in watching her hands move around the counter, resting his chin on her shoulder. For her part, Hermione quickly learns how to maneuver around Fred's limbs as she continues to prepare dinner. Finishing with the vegetables for Molly’s stew, Hermione plucks up her wand and sends them off into the pot, and summons the apples to begin slicing themselves for her pie. 

“Apple pie? Woman, you're going to be the death of me.” Fred groans into her ear, sending delightful shivers down her back. In her distraction, she almost doesn't notice his fingers picking an apple slice from midair to pop into his mouth.

“Drop it.” She warns, freezing Fred in place. He closes his mouth, pouting down at her with the apple slice still in his fingers. 

“Mione,” he whines, but Hermione doesn't even bother looking at him when she reiterates her warning. Still pouting, Fred throws the slice back to its mates floating to their right. “Meany.”

“You'll spoil your appetite, and hurt your mum’s feelings.” Hermione states matter of factly and Fred huffs into her hair, blowing pieces into her face. 

“Mum’s not even cooking, you are.”

“Well then, you’ll be hurting  _ my _ feelings.” Fred tries to stop his grin, poking her sides in, eliciting a squeal she tries to muffle. 

“Minx,”

“Why don’t you go bother someone else? I’m busy slaving away over the food you’re going to inhale.” Hermione smiled over her shoulder, letting him know there were no hard feeling, but she really did need to finish before someone (read: Ron) came in complaining. 

“Yes, alright,” Fred sighs, lets go of her but leans against the counter for a second to look at her. Hermione turns her head, looking at him with a raised brow. Fred smiles genuinely and reaches out to gently caress her cheek with the knuckle of his finger, moving the bits of hair behind her ear. “Hermione?”

“Yes?” she whispers, watching him still from the corner of her eye.

“Thanks for making my favourite.” he winks and swipes an apple slice, skipping out of the room before she can even think of grabbing it back. Hermione shakes her head to herself, gathering the rest of the ingredients to finish the pie she knew Fred liked, and place it in the oven so it will still be warm for dessert. 

Mrs. Weasley stood silent in the doorway of the pantry, staying unnoticed after her son and her practically adopted daughter flirted in the kitchen, unable to stop the giddy smile spreading over her lips. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Having everyone seated around the kitchen table was a tight picture, but Molly couldn’t be happier. Her boys were shoved in their regular spots, with their partners next to or across from them, spotting the remaining spaces around the room. Even George had pulled Hermione in between him and Fred, content in teasing the poor girl over every dish she presented to the table. Molly stood just behind everyone, waiting for them all to be seated, taking in the lovely family she had procured. Angelina was across from Hermione, taking the basket of rolls hanging between them to handoff to Ron on her right while talking to Ginny on her other side. 

Now that she was watching, Molly noticed with some remorse that Angelina and George were barely speaking to one another. Perhaps Hermione had been right to hesitate in inviting her over without asking George. In any case, Ginny was doing her part to make her feel included, though Molly couldn’t be sure what they were discussing. 

The same hesitance could not be said for Hermione and Fred, and the warm feeling in her chest rose up again. It had been her silent wish to have Hermione and Harry in her family, and while she had originally wanted Ron to be with Hermione, Molly couldn't deny the immediate affection these two naturally fell into. This whole situation with the soul marks was strange, and at first, Molly couldn’t understand how a hidden charm could successfully find a person’s soul mate. 

But when she watches Fred, seeing his hand accidentally brush over Hermione’s, and taking it in his own rather than continue to grab the dish he was reaching for, Molly thinks that  _ some _ people may have struck gold with this charm. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

“Have you gone to check who your partner is yet?” Angelina asked Ron, after dinner has been put away completely, and most everyone was in and around the living room. Ron glares down at his cuff covered wrist, rubbing the skin on his arm above it as if it itches thinking about it. 

“No.”

“You’re not going to?” Angelina asks, surprised but also understanding his hesitance. 

Ron shrugs, lowering himself into the couch, “I don’t see the point. Haven’t seen my  _ mate  _ anywhere, so obviously isn't bothering her any.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes, lowering her voice so their mother wouldn't be able to hear from the kitchen, “You're just scared, and stubborn.”

Ron gave her a glare but didn’t respond, closing the conversation.  Ginny rolled over onto her stomach, bored with the silent response to her tease. Harry was seated next to her on the ground, playing with his wand, flipping it back and forth, over and backward. When Ginny lay down, Harry’s lips twitched in a grin, tapping the tip of his wand very carefully on Ginny’s spread hair. Slowly, the tips he touched began to mix into bright pastel colours, giving his fiancee multicoloured stripes. George and Fred grinned from their places in the room, watching quietly, waiting for their sister to notice what the Boy-Who-Lived had done. To their great enjoyment, Ginny did not notice and stood to join her mother in the kitchen when she was called in. 

“Harry James, that was unnecessary.” Hermione scolded, though she was also laughing behind her hand. 

“I wonder what mum will — ” Fred began, but was cut off by his mother screeching from the kitchen.

“GEORGE AND FREDRICK WEASLEY! EXPLAIN YOURSELVES!” 

George glared now at Harry, not moving from his slouched position on the loveseat he was sharing with Charlie, “You’re going down Potter.”

Harry only grinned the slightly red tinge to his cheeks the only evidence of his embarrassment. Mrs. Weasley came storming into the room, Ginny clutched in her hand, her own face red from concealed laughter. She glared down at Harry, knowing perfectly well the twins wouldn't have been able to reach her without her noticing. Mrs. Weasley was not as astute, yelling at the twins to change their sister's hair back, and how they should know better in company.

“Honestly mum, how’d you know it was us?” Fred shrugged, not worried.

“Yeah, could have been anything,” George continued.

“Allergic reaction?” Fred grinned.

“Stray wildebeest with a vengeance for art?” George shrugged.

“Leftover potion that — hold on, wildebeest?” Fred gave his twin a weird look, but George only shrugged again, alluding his point. 

“The point is mum, you have no proof,” George stated triumphantly.

“For all you know, it could have been the bloody Boy-Who-Better-Watch-His-Back-If-He-Ever-Tries-Something-Like-That-Again, there's no way of knowing.” Fred finishes their rant, sending a glare at Harry over top of Hermione’s head. Mrs. Weasley, too shocked to say any more, looks between the twins and Harry, mouth flapping, unable to form a response. The rest of the company could no longer hold in their laughter, reducing the household to the first round of happy laughter they had found since the war. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _


	8. Chapter 8

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

_ June, 1998 _

*.*.*

“Ginny! Hermione! Girls, wake up!” Molly Weasley’s voice came shouting up the stairs. Hermione rolled over, groaning at the crick in her neck the movement produced. Ginny, however, did nothing more than shove a pillow over her head. Hermione ignored her friend, instead of pulling on a light housecoat and going downstairs to start the day. Her head throbbed, making her shut her eyes in pain as she turned into the kitchen, fingers pressing into her temple. 

“Good morning Hermione, dear. Would you mind starting the eggs?” Mrs. Weasley greeted the girl with her back still turned to her, whipping up what Hermione hoped was going to be pancakes. She made some sort of agreeable noise, and swished her wand towards the icebox, not feeling the need to bother bending over to search for the eggs herself. Hermione twisted towards the stove, immediately regretting the action as her head swirled. In the midst of her blackened sight, the Floo fired up, depositing a wide-awake Fred into his mother’s living room. He passed the staircase, not bothering to try and sneak past his mother to see if he could wake Hermione up. He would have a better chance of being permitted upstairs if he buttered her up first. So, he entered the kitchen, ready to begin complimenting his mother on whatever came to his mind first, when he was distracted by the form of the very witch he had hoped to surprise this morning. 

Thinking this a much better idea, Fred tiptoed in, grinning at his mother who swatted at his shoulder but gave him a warm smile, to stand directly behind the witch. Glancing back at his mother quickly, Fred noted her turned towards the food she was preparing. Taking his chance, Fred wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist, reminiscent of yesterday’s similar scene before dinner. 

Only this time, Hermione let out a groan of pain quiet enough that Fred was the only one to hear it, Molly continuing her job at the other end of the room. Fred released her waist, hovering his hands over her hips.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he whispered, not wanting to catch his mother’s attention if it wasn’t warranted. Hermione’s shoulders slouched further than they were, leaning her head back into Fred’s chest.

“Sorry, Fred, you didn’t do anything. I woke up with a wicked headache, and it seems to get worse whenever I move,” she whispers back, thinking the quiet voices was a brilliant idea if it didn't aggravate her head. Fred frowned down at the top of her head, surprised he felt so upset over an ailing headache. 

He surprised himself again when he dropped a gentle kiss to a stray curl wrapped over her forehead, “Sorry love,”

Hermione hums, eyes staying closed. “Don’t have to… it feels better by you,” she mumbles incoherently, and Fred feels the need to wrap her up in his arms again. Hugging her close, he pulls her away from the counter, gently seating her at the table to rest. 

“Shh ‘Mione, put your head down.” Fred tells her, and immediately knows she is really in pain when she follows orders willingly and quickly. He turns back to the cupboards, rifling through the potions board Mrs. Weasley keeps handy at all times. Cursing when he finds no Pepper-Up, he instead takes down the small cauldron to whip one up himself. 

“Fred, dear, what on earth—” Mrs. Weasley began, but Fred shushes her into a shocked silence, more than an obligatory one.  He spends only a moment making the potion that was practically second nature it was so easy, before grabbing a glass of water and places it by Hermione’s head. 

“Drink that,” Fred tells her, nudging it closer to her so she won’t have to reach so far. He stirs the potion once more, backward from the original instructions, well aware it finishes in half the time than normal when done in this way. Once a bright pink colour, he pours it into Hermione’s now empty water glass. “Now that.”

Hermione gives this one a scrutinizing look but tips the potion back without question. The reaction is immediate, her eyes open to their normal wide almond shape, and her shoulders roll in a full range of motion. She looks from the glass in her hand to the practically still boiling cauldron, “How did you make that so quickly?”

Fred grins, throwing the used cauldron into the sink, “I’m  _ really  _ good at Potions.”

Hermione frowns in confusion, still observing the potion glass, “But, you only had three O.W.L.S…”

Fred guffaws, “Doesn’t mean we weren’t good. Just had to keep up reputation, you know.” Mrs. Weasley and Hermione both scowl at him in a frighteningly similar way. “Had to be good at  _ something _ if Georgie and I were going to open the shop. George is better at Transfiguration.” 

“Then why didn’t you try harder at school? The things at the shop are brilliant!” Hermione waved her hand, headache completely gone, though she was feeling an exasperated pressure from Fred’s past actions that still baffled her. 

“Why does this still bother you Granger?” Fred asks in pure curiosity. Hermione’s jaws flap for a moment, but cannot come up with an argument that would make any sense. Fred smiles behind his hand, and takes a seat next to her, astride the bench of the kitchen table. He looks over at his mum, giving her a shy smile that makes her grin and turn around to ignore them. “Alright, we’ll leave this one for another day. How about, now your head’s a bit better, we go out for some lunch?”

Hermione was still frowning but looked up at him, a small smile replacing the puckered brow. 

“Yes, that sounds lovely.” Fred smiled and stood, giving her a hand up. Hermione took his hand and began to stand, but the pounding in her head was apparently not all gone, forcing her to shut her eyes and pause mid-rise. 

“Or maybe not,” Fred says, trying to keep the dejection from his voice. 

“I’m sure it’ll pass eventually. We can go wherever you’d like, Fred.” Hermione waved away his concern, but Fred didn’t say more on the idea, now trying to think of how else to entertain her when she had such a headache. “Seriously, I’m fine.” 

Fred looked back into her eyes, shining with the Gryffindor strength many had doubted in her in the beginning of her first year at Hogwarts. The look reminded him that this was the girl who had saved his little brother and friend more than once in their lives, and had just finished her journey in a horrible war they had all felt loss in. But Fred realized he still had no idea the pressure and horror this woman and her two best friends had really gone through. And once he thought this, and realised just how strong this woman was, how brilliant Hermione Granger was, Fred felt a need to show her she was cared for too. That she didn’t have to be tough anymore than necessary. 

“Sure Granger,” Fred whispers, clearing his throat hurriedly when he sounded a little too choked up, “Are you all right to Apparate?” 

Hermione looked a tad wary, but nodded her assent like Fred knew she would. He took her elbow this time, and lifted her gently into his side. He opened the porch door, waved a quick good-bye to his mother, and brought Hermione outside. Just before the door shut, Hermione swiped a knitted shawl she thought may be Ginny’s, draping it over her shoulders and inserting her arms, and quickly weaved her arm through Fred’s. Fred grinned down at her, silently approving the position as it pressed their side together much better than if they were to hold hands. He took her outside of the Burrow boundaries, and gave her hand a squeeze to let her know to hold on, and side alonged with her to the Diagon Alley entrance.

“Are we going to the Leaky Cauldron?” Hermione asks curiously, lowering her head a bit to wait for the nausea to pass. Her head was still twinging, but the fresh air of being outside seemed to be helping already. 

“If you’re feeling up to it.” Fred says happily, feeling the same healthy effects as Hermione was. Hermione nodded her agreement, and they headed to the way of the pub. Fred opened the door for her, allowing Hermione to enter before him. She looked around, recognizing the familiar set up she had passed through with her parents and Professor McGonagall, feeling a longing for those times with her parents. Especially now she wasn't sure if they were alive…

“Hermione?” a voice over by the bar counter shook her from her thoughts, causing both she and Fred to stop. Waving cheerily at the both of them was Neville Longbottom, seated at one corner of the bar with a familiar witch serving him from behind the bar. 

“Oh, Neville!” Hermione waved back, tugging Fred over to their old classmate. Neville stood to give her a sideways hug, and nodded in Fred’s direction. “I haven't heard from you, how have you been?” Hermione asked the boy, completely oblivious to the world in her happiness to reconnect with a friend. Fred on the other hand, noticed a few of the bar’s patrons were turning in their seats to watch them over the rims of their drinks. 

“‘ve been good. Stayed with my gran for a while after the fight, she was a bit worried,” he confided, giving them both a meaningful look they understood immediately. “Now I’m living here though, with my bond-mate. You remember Hannah Abbott?” Neville waves his hand to the girl behind the bar, Hannah, who wiggles her fingers in pleasant greeting to the three of them. 

“Yes,” Hermione waves back, glad the girl remembers her as well, “How are you Hannah?”

“‘M good,” she grins, passing a self levitating jug to someone on the other side of the bar. “actually, I’m about the take over the Leaky from Tom.”

Fred raised his brows in surprise, “Good for you. What’s Tom up to then?” 

“Just retiring, says the hustle and bustle is too much for him nowadays. Most of the time he’s in here anyways, chatting everyone up, and poking around behind the bar.” Hannah says cheerily, but her eyes flicker over their shoulders. A strange wide smile flickering over her face. “Neville, maybe Hermione and Fred would like to check out the back? See the new shelves we’ve been putting in?”

Fred frowns, completely lost on how this was relevant to what they had been talking about. Neville however seemed to pick up what she meant, taking Hermione’s elbow in a friendly grip, turning her to go behind the bar, talking loudly about nothing. Fred followed behind, giving Hannah a confused look, to which she only gives a smaller, uncomfortable smile before he disappears behind the curtain there. 

Hermione is now facing Neville with a frown on her face, while Neville closes the curtain behind Fred once he is also in the backroom.

“Sorry guys, Hannah’s had to do this a few times with a couple of the people who were involved in the war. Some of the customers get a bit, er,  _ intense _ .” Neville apologies, wincing a bit.

Hermione seems to deflate, her shoulders sloping as she seems to understand what their friend means. Fred on the other hand, is still baffled as to the secret conversation he isn’t a part of. “What are you talking about?”

“Fred,” Hermione sighs, turning towards her mate, “I’ve had a few people following me around…”

Fred’s arms seem to flail, “What?!” Hermione shushes his outburst, giving him a glare. 

“Don’t shout, Fred. It’s not a big deal, Neville and Hannah have it covered.” Hermione gave her friend a smile, showing her gratefulness for their intrusion. Fred also gave Neville a tight smile.

“Neville, would you mind if Hermione and I used the Floo?” Fred ran a hand through his hair, and took Hermione hand with the other. Hermione was not fooled in the way Neville was by Fred’s nonchalant reaction, but followed him past Neville to the next room over, where a small fireplace stood. 

“Thanks Nev, we’ll see you later.” Fred states and heads into the Floo. Hermione puts up a bit of a fight, letting go of Fred’s hand to give Neville a hug goodbye. The boy hugs her back, leaning down to whisper something into her ear that makes her eyes water, but her back tense at the thought. Once she let's go, Hermione shakes her head in the slightest, and steps in next to Fred. They wave goodbye, and disappear back into Fred and George’s flat. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Harry was happy. His life after the war had already become better than anything he had experienced in his life before. The Weasley’s had taken him in without preamble, something he could only have hoped for after every last member of a family he might have found was taken away from him once again. Mrs. Weasley embraced him like a mother, and showered him with food he never hesitated to consume. Mr. Weasley was still quick to ask his opinion on anything Muggle he couldn’t comprehend, calling him ‘son’ whenever particularly happy with his answers. 

Ginny was the highlight of their post-war life. She was brilliant, of course, always keeping up with his moods and acting as though the year they had spent apart hadn’t affected any of their conversation, or emotion. She skipped around him, always with a quirky comeback to something he might have said, or done, and a soft smile whenever he began to doubt himself. She was always quick to assure him of his place in the family, and now with their soul-bonds, to ensure he knew exactly how entwined he was in the Weasley brood. Her brothers were welcoming as well; Ron, of course, the most against thinking of his best mate with his little sister, but powered through it once threatened by Ginny’s Bat-Bogey Hex. 

Which was why, as he stared down at the letter from the Ministry’s Department of Lost or Orphaned Young Witches and Wizards, Harry felt strangely relieved that he had such a brilliant woman by his side. 

“Ginny!” Harry called up the stairs of the Burrow, startling Mrs. Weasley slightly in the kitchen, sticking her head out the door to see what the boy was yelling about. GInny came down the stairs, swinging around the last railing post.

“Yes?”

“There’s — um, I need — “ Harry held out the letter, stumbling over how to say the right thing to break the news to her.

Ginny took the letter, “What is this?” she flipped the letter head over, scanning the contents, “Oh no.”

“Yeah,”

“Poor Teddy,” 

Harry scratches the back of his neck in a nervous moment, “They want to know if I had any information about his guardianship.”

Ginny’s head whips up to meet his eyes, the brown of hers meeting his green, “Uh huh,”

Harry continues, despite her unreadable answer, “And, well, I  _ am _ his godfather,”

“I know,” Ginny states, matter of factly.

“And, I think I’d like to, er, help.” Harry finishes, leaving both of them in silence. Ginny still holds the letter, but a soft smile lifts her lips as she watches Harry struggling to express himself.

“You know, for such a brave Gryffindor, you aren’t very good at saying what you want, Potter.” She hands him back the letter, and leans down from her step to lay a soft kiss on his forehead. “Of  _ course _ we need to take him.”

Harry perked up, looking up into her eyes again, “ _ We _ ? You’re okay with this? Helping me raise Teddy?” Ginny just grinned and gave him an affirming nod. Harry exhaled loudly, his shoulders even dropping, before he gathered Ginny up and gave her a huge hug, kissing at the side of her head. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Ginny grins down at the top of his head, leaving a kiss to the top of his messy head, “I’m beginning to get it.”

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Fred stepped out of the fireplace first, stomping his boots to get rid of the remaining soot. He was still looking down at his feet when Hermione flashed out of the fireplace after him, her expression becoming stormy. 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to start yelling.” She states, crossing her arms over her chest, unconsciously blocking herself from him. Fred felt a red anger wash over him, but he tried his best to tamp it down. 

“I think I’d definitely have a right to. My fiancee just told me she’s been stalked for the last few weeks.”

Hermione scoffed, “I has not been weeks. I only noticed the first group yesterday. And I’m your soul-mate.”

Fred threw his hands up, exasperated, “But you still didn't tell me!”

“Why would I need to? I went straight home, and Fleur, Ginny and your mother were enough to talk to.” Hermione uncrossed her arms, feeling her hair begin to spark with magic as her anger grew warmer. “Are you suggesting I need to tell you everything about my life?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to know a little, Granger! Do you purposefully keep everything bottled up just to spite me? Make me realize I don’t know nearly as much about you as Ron does?” 

The silence that reigned between them after that was deafening. Both were silently brewing in anger, but Fred was beginning to feel a sense of shame in contrast to the silent horror Hermione felt. Both were too stubborn to say any more, but neither was sure how to break the conversation. 

Hermione cleared her throat, “I’m — “ she stops, and turns her body towards the door.

“Ok.” Fred answers her silence, understanding exactly what she meant without hearing it out loud. Hermione bit her lip, but didn't say another word, and Apparated out of the twin’s flat. Fred stayed standing where he was, staring at a corner of the room without really seeing it. After a moment he finally moved, running his hand through his hair roughly, and over his face in agitation.

“Merlin’s saggy left —” he continued muttering to himself, collapsing onto the couch behind him. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _


	9. Chapter 9

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

_ June, 1998 _

*.*.*

Hermione woke up with the worst headache she’d ever had. They had been getting progressively worse since the first she’d had a week ago, when Fred had stopped by and made her a potion to help it move along. It had also been a full week since she had left Fred after their fight. Mrs. Weasley had tried to help her with her own Pepper Up, but nothing seemed to work. Harry had offered her a shoulder massage yesterday morning when he had dropped by to visit with Ginny, and Hermione had accepted after a promise from Ginny that it would make her feel much better. Unfortunately, the relief her friend gave her disappeared an hour after they left, and she spent the rest of the day with a headache and aching shoulders. 

 

Ron, for what it was worth, offered the same service, but Hermione left it alone, aware he did not possess the same finesse as their mutual friend. Mrs. Weasley once more tried to heal the poor girl with a potion, and this time it lessened, but this morning seemed to have brought the horrible pounding back with a vengeance. 

“Oh, Hermione dear, perhaps it's time to go see a Healer about this. It’s been a full week already.” Mrs. Weasley patted down some of the girl’s curls, brushing them away from her pale face. 

 

“It’ll leave soon, Mrs. Weasley.” Hermione waved the concern away again, as she had been doing all week. 

 

“Really, Hermione, call me Molly, please. I’ll have you calling me Mum soon enough, dear.” Hermione cringed behind the woman’s back, the reminder of her engagement with Fred still too painful to try and think about underneath the headache. 

“Right, thank you, Molly.”

Mrs. Weasley beamed, and set about continuing making breakfast without Hermione’s help once again. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

“Fred, mate, go see a Healer.” George groaned, seeing his twin laying out on the couch again, the same as he had done every day for the past week. “Seriously, a headache that lasts for a whole week? It won’t just go away.”

“But you could,” Fred mumbles under his breath, “shove off, George.” 

“Or, better yet, go see her.” George storms up to his brother, shoving a clean shirt and pants in his face. 

Fred moves the clothing off, giving his brother a decidedly blank face, “See who?” George only glances at him, one brow raised, “Why bother, Georgie. She must hate me.”

“I still don’t see why, what could you have possibly done so wrong? You two have been all lovey since this whole thing started.” George sighed heavily, throwing more clothes at his twin, hoping to eventually anger him enough to get up. 

Fred groaned into his hands, hiding his face, “I — brought up Ron.”

George stayed silent, taking in what Fred had said, “Ah,”

“Yeah,”

“Did you, like,  _ accuse _ her?” George asks, not looking at his twin as he felt uncomfortable with the talk. Fred took his hands off his face, glaring at George with a retort on his tongue. “Think, Freddie, could it have sounded like it?”

Fred groaned again, the sounded getting stuck and sounding strangled in his throat, “Definitely,”

George groaned too, but in exasperation, “Well, brother mine, you’ve mucked this up beautifully. Knew your gooey love-sick relationship was too good to be true.”

“We are not  _ gooey _ .” Fred glared at the back of George’s head.

“Oh yes you were. Honestly, even mum wouldn’t have been surprised if you were already shagging her.” George chuckled, and glanced at his twin over his shoulder, cackling when he noted Fred’s ruddy cheeks. “Seriously mate, just go talk. Or sit in the kitchen with her, and mum will play  defense. You’ll feel better, I know it.” 

There was no response from Fred, making George pause. Looking over his shoulder again, George noticed Fred was passed out again, crumpled like he’d fallen asleep. “Fred?”

There was no answer, not even a soft snore George had familiarized with his sleeping twin. Worried now, George stepped closer, reaching to push his brother’s head over, but only succeeded in making Fred slump further into the cushions. 

“Freddie?!” George knelt down next to his brother, running his hands over Fred’s chest and arms, unsure what to do, and beginning to worry. Gathering his twin’s arms, George leant over his brother, wedging his shoulder underneath Fred’s ribs, and swung his lank body up over his shoulders. Struggling to bend and grab Fred’s wand, George growled and ended up just kicking Fred’s wand across the room to land in the fireplace. He stepped over it carefully, not wishing to snap the precious wood, and Flooed over to the Burrow as quickly as possible.

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

The Burrow only seemed to be making her headache worse. Hermione continuously rubbed at her temples, and closed her eyes against the light as the morning became more busy. Harry and Ron came bursting into the kitchen from upstairs, tossing a Quaffle back and forth, rowing about some play or other they disagreed on. Hermione couldn’t be bothered enough to end their bickering, and instead slumped further into the table to escape the noise. Ginny walked right past her with a quick ‘Morning Mione’ before snatching a biscuit from her mother, and leaving with a call over her shoulder about visiting Luna. Percy had stomped down the stairs, also grabbing a lunch Molly had kindly packed him, leaving a kiss he grudgingly accepted on his cheek before whizzing through the Floo, leaving behind a bright flash that irritated Hermione’s eyes. That seemed to be the last straw, until Harry and Ron finished their breakfast and began a loud game of Wizard’s Chess right next to her head. 

“I’m going to go,” she waved her hand around, searching for the word that seemed to have escaped her, “ _ lay down _ . For a bit,” Standing, Hermione left the dining room, making her way straight to the couch, and slumped across the whole thing. She could just see the tips of Harry’s hair from her seat, and feeling much more relaxed, closed her eyes, and blacked out. In the kitchen, Harry have Ron a questioning lift of his eyebrows, but Ron just shrugged.

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

The scene in the Burrow was calm and quiet until George burst through the Floo, yelling for Mrs. Weasley. Harry pushed the board away (he was losing anyway) and spun around the see what the ruckus was. He still had trouble figuring out which twin was which, but today, Harry immediately noticed the missing ear of the standing twin, holding the other twin over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Jumping up without thinking, Harry made it to George before Mrs. Weasley and Ron, who had been picking up the remains of Harry’s last pawn. 

“Oh dear, what have you two gotten into this time?” Mrs. Weasley bustled around them, really just getting in the way as Harry helped move Fred off of George, moving the passed out Weasley towards the unoccupied couch. As he did this, Harry noticed Hermione was fast asleep on the couch, and hadn’t stirred when George burst in, practically right in front of her. After relieving George of Fred, and propping the lanky twin up on the couch opposite Hermione’s, Harry went over to his friend’s side. 

“‘Mione?” Harry whispers, brushing her hair back, gently revealing her face. Hermione didn’t stir, making Harry frown, and a bead of worry settle itself in his core. “Hermione, wake up. Fred’s here.”

Still nothing happened. Looking over his shoulder with worry in his eyes, Harry called Ron over, wanting reassurance that nothing was wrong with their friend, “Ron, she’s not waking up!”

“What?” Ron went over to Harry’s side, nudging at Hermione’s arm. He didn’t receive any response as well, and shared a worried look with Harry.  “Hermione!” Ron shook her shoulder, but the girl only rocked back into the couch cushions.

“Mum!” Ron yelped over his shoulder, dropping to his knees next to Harry, both boys worrying over their friend now, “Hermione’s not waking up!”

“What?” Mrs. Weasley wheeled around from George, who had just successfully deposited his twin onto the empty couch. “Both of them? What in the world is going on?” Mrs. Weasley went over to Hermione’s side, nudging her worrying friends aside. 

In the meantime, Ginny had sat herself on the single seater couch, watching the happenings with a worried brow. As George adjusted Fred’s leg, Fred’s arm slipped off the couch, his shirt riding up his arm to reveal his, now shining, tattoo. Ginny stared at the mark in astonishment before an idea hit her, and she watched Hermione’s arm as well while her mum moved her friend around. Hermione’s mark was glowing through the long sleeved shirt she wore, the light pink colour unable to hide the shining glow. 

“Their marks! George, drag Fred over here.” Ginny hopped up, gesturing to her older brother as she jumped over the low table between the two couches. 

George groaned, but took his brother up onto his shoulder again, moving the lank man over to Hermione’s couch. Ginny, not gently, shoved Ron and Harry out of the way, though she apologized to Harry, and snatched up Hermione’s arm, pulling it as far as she could towards where George now held Fred. “George, bring up his arm.” 

George tried to move Fred’s arm closer, but couldn’t quite manage it. Harry took it upon himself to grab Fred’s wrist, and copied Ginny in stretching the limb as close to Hermione as he could. 

Once the two tattoos were so much nearer one another, their light became stronger, and a light blue emitted from each, meeting in a small knot in the middle. Everyone was silent, watching in complete awe and unsureness as the lights rekindled. They were so focused, George only just felt Fred begin to stir.

“Freddie?” all George received was a groan, but it was good enough for him. “Move out of the way Ronnie, I’m gonna drop him.” Ron scattered out of the way, as George did, in fact, drop Fred onto the couch.

Hermione’s hand was close enough still to Fred’s that their tattoo’s began to glow brighter. The light becomes close to the same brilliance as when everyone had received their tattoo’s after the final fight had finished. The only difference to now, is the Patronus’ do not make an appearance, but the prints on both hands burn bright red before fading out, leaving the marks much darker than they had been before. 

No one makes a move after the glowing has gone down, until Harry grabs Hermione’s tan hand to flip it over, seeing if anything had changed.

“Harry?” Hermione mumbles, startling the family. 

“Hermione, are you alright?” Harry asks, brushing the hair that had fallen into her eyes back behind her ear. 

“I feel … sick,” she mumble again, rocking back into the couch, her eyes scrunching shut, “is it dinner time? Let Molly know I’m not feeling well, please.”

“It’s alright dear, we’re all here.” Molly says from her place behind Harry, Ron, and Ginny, nearer to George who still stood over Fred. Hermione frowned, not quite lucid enough to understand what was happening around her. Fred took this moment to stir, also mumbling something, but without as much serviceable English. 

“Freddie? Wake up mate, you’re causing a scene.” George fretted over his twin, kicking at Fred's knee. Hermione stirred again, looking over her head, as if she was trying to see over the edge of the couch but was too sick to lift herself.

“Fred’s here? Is it Sunday already?” she mumbled, and Harry shared a worried look with Ginny.

“No, it’s Friday, Hermione…” Harry tells her before being bustled aside by her hand as she waves him out of the way.

“Are you undermining my intelligence, Harry Potter? Of course it’s Friday.” Hermione’s entire aura is suddenly rejuvenated and she sits up on her own. Now she can see Fred clearly, where he is still only just stirring from his unconsciousness. “Is he alright?”

“Seems to be now,” George answers her, ignoring the baffling mood changes from the younger witch. Hermione watches Fred for a moment, not moving from her spot, and either ignoring or not noticing everyone’s uneasy glances at her. 

“I feel…” she starts, suddenly looking green. Harry gives her a startled glance, reminding her of a scared deer. Hermione pauses, but the vertigo disappears and she only feels tired once again. “No, I think I’m going to go back to sleep…”

“Hermione!” Ron shakes her shoulder, jolting her awake. Hermione rolls over and gives Ron a glare, before passing out once more. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

The morning slowly shifts to evening as the family waits for the fallen couple to move again. Since Hermione had woke up briefly, neither she nor Fred had moved another muscle. No one was sure what had happened, or had caused both to collapse so suddenly. Mrs. Weasley was doing all she deemed helpful to keep the two comfortable, so had them both brought up to the twins’ old bedroom. After grudgingly tucking them both into Fred’s bed — as George pointed out, he would also need a place to sleep while he waited for his twin to wake up — Mrs. Weasley sent an owl to Arthur at the Ministry, warning him about all that had happened. Within the next hour, before dinner was even beginning in preparation, Kingsley’s Patronus shot through the Burrow kitchen, shocking GInny enough that she upset her tea, spreading it over everything on the table.

“Molly,” Kingsley’s voice boomed through the room, and the Weasley’s remaining in the living room rushed into the kitchen, “Arthur and I are on our way with a Healer. Stay calm. We’ll be there soon.”

The blue mist disappeared, leaving a silent effect within the usually warm Burrow. “Well, off you all go. Your father will be home soon enough. George,” Molly turns to the man just behind her, “go up to your room and watch Hermione and Fred, please dear.” George nods and goes up without complaint or comment. He opens the doors as softly as he can, stepping in without letting in too much light, incase one of them happened to be awake. 

Both are still laying on the bed, shoulders touching and Fred’s lying just over Hermione’s from the slimness of the bed. George stepped closer, looking over both of their faces, but saw no improvement. Sighing heavily, George took up his spot on his bed across from his twin’s, and settled himself in to keep watch over the near comatose couple. 

It was almost another ten minutes before George began to notice the tattoos circling their hands were beginning to glow the same colour as a Patronus. “What the hell…” he mutters, getting up to investigate. Before he can get any closer to see, Hermione’s wrist flashes, and her Patronus is summoned. The playful otter is more subdued than normal, staying in place above it’s person rather than darting around the room. It ignores George completely, hanging over Fred’s face like it was trying to figure him out. George stays where he is, curious to see how the otter came about from Hermione when she didn’t consciously summon it. 

The otter swayed back and forth before staying just above Fred’s head, as if sniffing at his hair. Fred’s wrist also flashed, and George was suddenly watching the fox Patronus he always felt he knew so well. The fox leapt around the otter, brushing its tail past the smaller body to land almost completely on Hermione’s head. It bounced away at the last moment, curling itself around her halo of hair. George watched in complete fascination, staying as quiet as he could. The door to the room began to open, shocking George into action, catching the wood before it could cause any noise to disturb the Patronus’. 

“George?” His father’s voice came through the small crack made from the open door. 

“Shh, come in, but very quietly.” George whispers, not taking his eyes off the Patronus’ still floating above their people. Mr. Weasley heeded his son’s words, and stepped lightly into the room, Kingsley not far behind him. Both older wizards fore in shock, watching the phenomenon in awe. 

“What’s happening?” George asked, but Mr, Weasley just shook his head.

“I believe their Patronus’ are reacting to a flaw in our Soul-Mate Charm.” Kingsley says, continuing to watch the scene, “It may be better to leave them to finish. If we interrupt, Fred and Hermione may be asleep for much longer.” 

“You know why this is happening then?” Mr. Weasley asked his colleague, turning to look up at Kingsley. 

“I believe so,” Kingsley nods before looking at George, “were your brother and Miss Granger perhaps away from one another for a large amount of time in the last few weeks?”

George frowned, “Well yeah, they had a huge row last week and this was the first time they’ve even been in the same room as one another. Stubborn gits.” He mutters the last part, receiving a small tap to the back of his head from his father. Kingsley hummed in thought, turning to watch Fred and Hermione once again, just as the Patronus’ switched back to their respective people and sunk away. Almost immediately, Fred took a shuddering breath, his eyes opening blearily. George was quick to move over to his brother’s side.

“Freddie? You awake?” George whispered, aware he was leaning over a still asleep Hermione. Fred rubbed at his eyes, then groaned. “Fred?”

“‘M fine, Georgie. Why are you hovering?” Fred opened his eyes wider, and noticed the other two men in the room as well. “Morning all then. What’s going on?” 

“You passed out this morning Fred, and we couldn’t wake you up. So I brought you home, and Hermione had passed out as well.” 

Fred tries to sit up, bumping Hermione’s arm as he did so. He paused in shock, looking down at the witch he hadn't noticed before then. His confused frown turned into one of concern, as he turned onto his side to cup Hermione’s face. 

“‘Mione?” He asked, brushing her hair back to run his fingers through it. He looked at George, worry crossing his features, “is she alright?”

George shrugged but said none the less, “You’re alright, so she should be too.” 

“She will be just fine, Fred.” Kingsley’s deep voice boomed from over George's shoulder, gaining the attention of all three Weasley men. “Your Patronus has made it so, as hers caused your awakening.”

Fred looked terribly confused, and felt close to tears with the frustration of not knowing. “But how did this happen?”

“Well, that's exactly what I'd like to find out so we can help any other ailing mates if this happens to them. Your family was quick thinking in bringing the both of you together.” Kingsley took a seat on the corner of George's bed, next to Mr. Weasley. 

“This was because of the Bond? Did it make us sick?” 

“No, Mr. Weasley, if anything it helped you become healthy.” 

George screwed his nose up while Fred looked at Kingsley with a truly degrading look, “ Kings, tell it to me straight, I don't have the brainpower to understand you right now.” 

“It’s been determined that once a bond has been set, and the couple has connected in some way, it makes it difficult for the two to be away from one another for an extended amount of time.”  

Fred physically shook his head, trying to shake the incredulous feeling, “What?”

George piped up with a ‘what?’ of his own, “Are you saying once we hang around our mates for too long we literally can’t live without them?”

Kingsley shook his head, “Not quite. Just, a draining sensation; it’s meant to drive you towards staying with the person. So you can —

“Get busy?” George deadpans.

“Have children?” Fred pipes up at the same time, though more understanding than accusatory. Mr. Weasley glares at the both of them, but doesn't say anything to reprimand them. 

KIngsley seems a bit uncomfortable, but with the true grace of a new Minister of Magic, he concedes to the Weasley twins’ point. “I suppose that isn’t false.”

Fred frowns, upset about the outcome of this new development in the soulmate bond, but looks down at the still sleeping witch next to him, and feels his brow smooth out. Hermione is still resting soundly, her hair spread out and her face peaceful. George, still scowling over this news, looks to his brother and notices him looking down at Hermione. Without question, George stands and makes his way to the door.

“Alright, we’ll leave you to rest a bit Freddie. Call if you need anything, yeah?” Fred just nods, and Kingsley and Mr. Weasley take this as their cue to leave. They step out before George, who closes the door behind him very lightly, just missing the soft look in Fred’s eyes as he watches Hermione rest next to him. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

The next time Hermione wakes up, she feels immediate relief upon realizing her week long headache was gone. The room she was in looked familiar, but she couldn't immediately place where she was. It wasn’t the couch she had fallen asleep on, and upon further reflection, she wasn’t surrounded by her friends and family. 

“‘Mione?” Hermione heard her name whispered just beside her, and her body shocked from the surprise of hearing someone so close. She focused on the space next to her, and indeed noticed there was someone lying next to her. 

“Who— ?”

“It’s Fred, love. Are you okay?” Fred, apparently, moved up to lean on his elbow above her, giving her more room to move around. Hermione shifted to face him, lying on her side rather than her back.

“Fred? What happened? I don’t remember leaving the couch?” She felt his hand brush against her hair, and felt a blush rush to her cheeks. She was suddenly happy for the darkness in the room. 

Fred shifted once more, reaching over her head to the side table and suddenly the tip of his wand was lit, casting a soft light through the room. Hermione looked around and recognized the twins’ room, and Fred‘s bed she was lying on. 

“Kingsley came home with dad to explain things. Apparently George brought me over when I passed out, only to find you had done the same. Kings described it being because our bond reacted badly to our ‘separation’.” Fred mumbled all this close to her head, even though Hermione could see there was no one in the room with them, and the door was firmly shut. 

“Our bond made us pass out?” 

“Yup.”

“Merlin,” Hermione ran her fingers through her unruly hair, trying to untangle some of it. Fred’s lips twitched into a grin as he tried to help her. Hermione didn't say anything but allowed him to detangle her hair. Once it has been tamed, Hermione lowered her arms onto her stomach, fiddling with her thumbs.

“So,” Fred whispers, but Hermione doesn’t say anything to answer him. She feels him shift around next to her, and feels him lingering over her. “Hermione, we will have to talk eventually. Our lives almost  _ literally _ ended because we didn't speak to one another.”

Hermione flips over onto her side to mirror Fred, glaring intently at him now, “Wouldn’t you rather I talk to  _ Ron  _ instead?”

“No, Granger, I obviously don’t want that.” Fred huffs out, leaning away from her to give them space to talk.

“I don’t see how that’s obvious, since you shocked the hell out of me when you threw one of my best friends in my face.” Hermione pouted, feeling revolted with herself for almost sticking out her bottom lip. 

“It’s not obvious that I regret saying that?”

“No, because a decent person would actually apologize for being such a jerk. But I am getting married to a Weasley twin, so what did I expect, right?” 

“No! That’s — I just — Damn it, fuck Granger! Just please listen,” Hermione took a deep breath, and watched Fred do the same. Once they were both calmed down, Fred propped his head up on his hand. They stayed silent longer than Hermione figured they would, but she was too comfortable to say anything that might damage the calm air around them. 

“I almost feel like I can’t stay mad. Is that weird?” Hermione finally burst, but relaxed when she saw Fred nod, agreeing with the calmness.

“I can admit I’d usually be yelling right now. But, I can’t get over this strange,  _ fuzzy _ feeling.” Fred groans, sinking his face into the pillow after the cheesy line. Hermione’s lip quivers, but she bites down on the line of it to stop the smile from appearing. “Ignore that,”

“I don’t think I will,  _ Freddie.  _ Or should I say,” she leaned in to whisper into his ear he tried to hide in the pillow, “ _ fuzzy _ ?” Fred exploded from the pillow, snatching her around the waist, digging his fingers into her sides to try and make her laugh. It worked too well, and Hermione found herself feeling light and, she admitted, fuzzy, from the happiness the pair of them had found again. Their relationship felt easy again, as if nothing had happened. A small part of her brain realized this may not be natural, but the rest of her body was too happy to try and figure it out. 

Fred nuzzled his chin into her shoulder, leaving a kiss on her cheek. “I am sorry for bringing up Ron. I really didn’t mean it; I felt jealous, and knew it was ridiculous.”

Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry for not mentioning the people following me, I knew you'd be worried—  and not talking to you to the point where we got sick.” Fred snorted at the ridiculousness of the situation and kissed her forehead. Hermione smiled shyly and left her own small kiss on the underside of his chin. 


	10. Chapter 10

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

_ June, 1998 _

*.*.*

The next morning was quiet. Mrs. Weasley strutted around the kitchen, getting a large breakfast ready, though she had to admit it was mostly to distract herself from going to each of her children’s rooms to check up on them. Fred and Hermione had worried her to no end the night before, though George, Arthur and Kingsley had promised her the two were now awake and felt just fine. George had been withdrawn and had gone to sleep in Percy’s room to leave Fred and Hermione time to rest. She was whizzing around the kitchen, making up for the work Hermione had usually been doing for her, and made her realize just how much the young woman had taken upon herself. 

Steps thundered down the levels of the Burrow, making Molly wince; for once not wanting any of her family to wake early after the hard day yesterday. Surprisingly, (though perhaps not after the noise of his entrance into the kitchen) Ron came around the banister, depositing himself into a seat at the long kitchen table. 

“Mornin’ mum, any breakfast ready yet?” Ron’s voice was still scratchy with sleep, but Molly just rolled her eyes and handed him a plate of bacon and eggs. The house remained quiet besides Ron’s loud chewing, and Molly fell into the rhythm of cooking once again. “Mum?”

Molly turned to face her youngest son, who had stopped eating for the moment. “Yes, Ronald?”

“Do you think it’s wrong I didn’t try to find my bond mate?” 

“Oh Ronnie,” Molly rushed towards him, sitting next to her baby boy and grabbing his hand. Ron, who would usually blush red at the extra attention, gripped his mum’s hand while looking at the table in front of them. He had been the one to change the most of Molly’s brood after the war. While the trio had told the Weasley’s about their adventure, Molly intuitively knew there were instances they had not revealed to the family, including something Ron must have done that the three were very mum about. 

“It’s just that, Harry and Gin are happy, and even about to adopt Teddy,” Molly struggled to contain her happy grin that always seemed to pop up whenever Teddy was brought up.  _ Her first grandchild, and from her little girl!  _ “And Hermione,”

Molly looked at Ron’s face, looking for any form of jealousy, “Hermione?”

Ron nodded, still not looking at his mother, “With Fred. They’re happy, right?” Molly nodded, unsure if she should say anything while Ron thought things through. Ron nodded, like he knew this already, which Molly realized he did, but hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, everyone either ignoring him or assuming he didn’t have anything to say about it.  

“Yes sweetheart, I think they are very happy.” Molly watched as Ron nodded to himself, twirling his fork around on his plate as he digested this. “You could be happy too Ron — even if you decide not to find your bond mate. But remember Ronnie,” Ron looked up at his mother who was speaking very seriously, hoping to get through to him, “there’s a girl out there who could be just as unsure about her mate, and is waiting to meet you.” Ron’s face went a bit red, looking down at the table.

“I hadn’t thought about her end of things…”

“I didn’t think you had, but I don’t blame you Ron. And I’m sure she won’t either. Everyone understands the strangeness of this situation you kids have been pushed into. Find her, and talk to her. Maybe she’ll end up being someone you truly like.” Molly spoke softly, real hope blooming in her chest as her youngest son nodded in agreement, and finished up his breakfast.

“Alright, tell Harry I’ve gone out then, yeah? I’m going to… go looking I guess.” Ron gave his mother a small twitch of his lips, gave her a quick kiss on her cheek and walked out of the Burrow. Molly felt the shift in the air when Ron Apparated away, and the tightness in her chest released. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Harry woke up with a slight headache, and immediately reached for Ginny. However, the reason for the pain in his head was found when his hands reached through the bedsheets and found them cool and empty. Remembering he had slept at the Burrow the night before after helping Fred and Hermione, he propped himself up on his elbow, and reached over the other side of the bed to grab his glasses off the nightstand positioned between his and Ron’s beds. Once he could see again, Harry looked around the room to find Ginny sitting on the end of Ron’s bed, flipping her wand back and forth in her hands. 

“Gin?” Harry broke the morning silence, seeing Ginny jump from her name. She looked up, smiling at him in greeting, but not before Harry noticed the small frown marring her face. “Are you alright, love?” The smile slid off her face, and a small frown crossed her brow again. 

Sighing heavily, Ginny went to sit in front of Harry on his bed, crossing her legs underneath herself. “Harry,”

“What’s wrong, Ginny?” Harry reached his arms out to rub his hand over her shoulder in comfort. He knew she wouldn’t allow any more than that, especially if she was so distressed by whatever was going through her head. 

“I was just worrying, it’s really nothing Harry.”

“But you were worrying about something…”

Ginny gave him a look, one he knew meant she was trying to be angry with him but had found whatever he had done a bit cute. Harry grinned, trying to pull her closer. This time she allowed him to move her, but stayed sitting up to see him. “I’m unsure, I think, about raising Teddy.” 

Harry was a bit shocked if he was being completely honest with himself, “But, you seemed so…”

“Excited? I am, don’t get me wrong,” Ginny sighed, shifted around on the bed, “but I’ve thought about it, and, Harry, are we the right people to be raising him? I’m only just out of Hogwarts and probably have to redo my entire seventh year to be able to get a job. And, we’ve just came out of a war where you were Merlin knows where for most of it!”

Harry stayed silent, thinking over what Ginny had said, “He was in the war too, Gin.” Ginny slumped, realizing exactly what he meant, “Maybe not actually fighting, but, Teddy is one of the reasons we had to fight. To give everyone the chance to live without fear. And now his parents are gone, Mrs. Tonks is gone, and he needs someone to keep protecting him.” Ginny watched him, their eyes meeting one another's and not looking away until Ginny gave in.

“You’re right,” Ginny collapsed next to him, shaking now from the strain released from her body over her fretting. Harry tucked her underneath his chin, gathering her arms and legs up onto his lap giving her a large bear hug. Ginny let out a giggle at the odd hug, but appreciated the overwhelming love and warmth it gave her. “We seem too young to become parents.”

Harry smiled wildly at the thought of having children with Ginny, even if they were adopting their first rather than conceiving, “My parents were almost this age when they had me.”

Ginny peeked up at him, “But your parents were so in love, I’m sure fairytales could have been written about them.”

Harry laved a kiss over her lips, drawing back to whisper to her, “So are we.”

Ginny pushed him back, giggling again, “You sap!” Harry leaned back, taking her with him as he leaned against the wall acting as his headboard. 

“My parents weren’t always the perfect couple, you know? Everyone always said how in love they were, and a power couple. But, they were also friends before, and before that, pretty much declared one another enemies.”

“Really?” Ginny looked up at him, trying to pat his hair down. 

“Yeah, mum was always in the library or studying with her friends, while dad mostly spent his time goofing off and making trouble with the Marauders.”  Harry paused, a weird frown crossing his face. Ginny also had a weird sense of deja vu, and looked up into Harry’s eyes.

“Er, doesn't that kind of sound like…”

“Hermione and Fred?”

“Let’s definitely not tell them they act like the Potter’s, Hermione may never forgive us, and Fred would never let us forget.” They both pealed with laughter, trying to keep it quiet enough not to alert anyone they were in the same room so early in the morning. Even though they lived together at Grimmauld Place, Harry was adamant not to outwardly mention the fact they shared a bed around her family. He felt too shy about receiving any flack from Mrs. Weasley or ribbing from all her brothers.    


Harry stopped eventually and left a sweet kiss on Ginny’s cheek, “You’ll be a wonderful mother. I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect woman to become my wife, be the mother of my children, and grow old with.”

Ginny flipped around, facing him with wide eyes shining with tears. “That sounds like a proposal Mr. Potter.”

“Well,” he shrugged and wrapped his arms around her waist, shyly crawling his fingers up her sides and causing a shiver to go through her, “if we weren’t already bonded together by our very souls, I can assure you I would be doing that exact thing.”

Ginny looked down at the dip in his shirt, pulling the vee of it down a bit with her finger, “I wouldn’t mind if you still decided to. One day. Spontaneously.”

Harry grinned wickedly, “We’ll see Miss Weasley. Perhaps after you’ve mastered making pancakes the Muggle way.”

Ginny slapped at his chest, suddenly aghast, “That was one time! The ceiling looks fine now!”

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Hermione woke up first this time. She knew she was still in the twins’ room, and she also knew Fred was still asleep beside her. However, this time she didn’t feel unsure or shy about him. The odd fuzzy feeling hadn’t really left her, but had settled in her chest and dulled to the point where she just felt excited and content. She decided it was a form of withdrawal her body had felt from being away from her soul mate, and the researcher in her longed to look further into what had caused the bonds. However, the lovesick portion of her that needed to stay next to Fred overwhelmed that other part of her and she stayed in the bed watching Fred sleep. His freckles were dark against the paleness of his skin, and she skipped her fingertips over many of them as she mentally connected them into patterns. 

“That tickles.” Fred’s scratchy deep voice mumbled in his sleep, waking up from Hermione’s ministrations. 

“Sorry, I like your freckles in the morning. They look different.” Fred cracked an eye open to look at her, raising a brow tiredly. Hermione blushed, but didn't look away, “Weird, I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, love. I love your hair in the morning.” He grinned now, stretching his arms up over both of their heads. Hermione lifted one hand up to touch her hair, cringing when she felt the massive puffy curls now adorning her head. 

“Wonderful. And I know Ginny used the last of the hair potion on it yesterday.” She sighed and looked down at Fred who was, to his word, looking all over her curls while grinning. “You’ll have to help me deal with this later. It usually takes two people when it gets to this point.” If possible, Fred’s grin became even wider and he sat up to lean against the wall by the propped up pillows. 

“No problem ‘Mione. I don’t particularly feel like leaving your side today.”

Hermione smiled back, “I feel the same.” She leaned in slowly, watching his eyes grow a shade darker as he watched her lips. Pausing before kissing him, Hermione felt herself whisper, “Good morning.”

Fred’s grin turned decidedly sappy while his eyes were blown almost completely black with arousal, “Good morning, my love.” and he leaned in the rest of the way, giving Hermione a lovely morning kiss. Once she felt the urgent need for a breath, Hermione leaned back and grabbed his and her wand from the small table between Fred and George’s beds. 

“Now Mr. Weasley, please be gentle.” Fred smiled softly and motioned with his finger for her to spin around. Hermione twisted herself to face the opposite wall, sitting in between Fred’s open legs. She grabbed a section of her hair and began to cast small silky charms, causing her curls to unwind and tame themselves. After watching her do this a few times, Fred took up a piece of her hair and began working along with her. It was a pleasant feeling, Hermione at many points paused just to close her eyes and feel Fred running his fingers through her hair softly and gently. 

“Relax ‘Mione, I’m almost done anyway,” Fred says into her ear, and Hermione feels compelled to drop her wand arm and lean back into his chest. Fred continues to smooth her hair, brushing through the small knots that wouldn’t come all the way undone from his wand. There was one more tug and Hermione felt Fred lower his arm around her waist, curling her body back into his chest. “All finished.”

“Thank you, Freddie.” Hermione says over her shoulder, feels him nod his welcome into her shoulder, and relaxes further into him. Fred watches her melt into him, feeling a warmth in his chest that isn’t just from her body heat warming his front. He can’t stop himself from wrapping both arms around her waist so tightly he brushes his own sides with his fingertips. His nose is already brushing against her now silky smooth hair, so he leans in a bit more to nuzzle the tip of his nose through the hair to find her ear. Feeling almost drugged, Fred traces the shell of her ear with the tip of his nose, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Hermione. Breath coming harsher, Fred slowly continues his path down the curve of her jaw, touching the tip of his nose or the edge of his lips along the way, passing her jaw and avoiding her lips. Once he was near her neck, Fred released his held breath and caused Hermione to seize from the feeling it gave her. 

“Fred,” Hermione gasps out, her back arching on its own. Fred ignores it, closing his eyes to not get distracted by the breathy moans now coming from the beautiful witch in his arms. His hands clench at her hips before he makes his fingers uncurl and grasp her hips to keep her in place. Feeling her move around too much would definitely break his concentration. With his lips now at her throat, Fred felt too riled to continue and stayed there for a moment, leaving small kisses along the length of her neck for a few heated moments.

“Fred.” Hermione says again, but this time Fred pulls back to look into her eyes, which are a tender soft brown now. “I don’t expect anything,” He watched her a moment, flummoxed by what she could mean. Hermione blushed a bit, but didn’t look away, feeling this was important to get across. “I mean, I don’t, er — you don’t have to do that, if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Why in Merlin’s name would you make me uncomfortable?” Fred asked her. If it was possible, Hermione blushed an even darker red, beginning to doubt herself for starting this conversation. 

“Well, I know I’ve never really been your type, and I know there were, uh,  _ rumours _ about you and George at Hogwarts. And I don’t need to know if they were true! But, uh, don’t feel like you’re obligated to do anything with me.”

“Obligated? Granger —” Fred shook his head, but Hermione continued on to interrupt him.

“I mean, we’ll have to eventually have children, since that’s the purpose of this whole soul bond charm — to reproduce — but I’ll understand if you’d rather ignore me otherwise,”

“Hermione!” Fred nearly shouted, stopping Hermione from continuing to ramble on. “Where the bloody hell did all this come from? When did you get the impression I wouldn’t want you? Unless,” now Fred paused, unsure of himself, “ _ you  _ don’t want  _ me _ ?”

“No!” Hermione burst, turning completely around, hugging her legs to herself so she wouldn't tangle up with Fred. 

“Well, then what? Hermione,” Fred reached out, and cuffed the bottom of her chin with the edge of his knuckle, gently turning her face up to him, “do you not know just how bloody beautiful you are? I can get George to validate it; I’ve had a crush on you since the ruddy Yule Ball.”

Hermione was shocked, staring at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, “Since  _ what? _ Fred, I was only in my fourth year!”

“So? You’ve always been a looker Granger, but that year my eyes were also opened to that brilliant head of yours. You’re clever, Granger, so clever and smart and brilliant that I’ve known I loved you since then.” Fred stops, realizing what he’s said, but doesn’t recede his words. Instead, he watches Hermione as she processes everything he’s told her. 

“Oh.” Is all she manages to say.

“Yeah,” Fred says back, his chest beginning to feel as if Hagrid were sitting on it. Suddenly Hermione launches herself into his arms, her lips pecking kisses all over his face, wherever she is able to reach. “‘Mione?”

“Merlin, Fredrick! I love you too.” She gasped out, and Fred leaned back to see her looking at him happily, her eyes shining and her lips parted with a gleeful grin. Grinning devilishly down at her, Fred swooped down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss unlike any they’d shared before. Eventually he pulls away, cupping her cheeks in his hands to look at her face, allowing her to watch his at the same time.  

“I love you,” He says again, and Hermione smiles and repeats the new phrase, both giddy with the newness and comfort they’d created together. “I wasn’t joking, Granger. You are beautiful.”

Hermione blushed prettily and looked away from his face for a split second, but Fred didn’t miss it. He knew she was still thinner from the year away with Harry and Ron, and had yet to regain all the weight she had lost from poor eating and stress. Her eating habits had gotten considerably better since May, and almost three months later, she always took second helpings during Sunday family dinners. He also knew she had kept the dramatic weight loss from Harry and Ron, so had not received any support from her best friends. From this, Fred also realized she felt… lacking. He had failed to remind her of just how brilliant she is, and recognized it was his job and duty to remind her of that fact every day for the rest of their lives. He leaned down and placed a loving kiss to her forehead before grazing her lips. ‘ _ Starting now.’  _ he thought to himself.

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Harry sat stoically in his chair, back ramrod straight, however he couldn’t stop the slight slouch to his shoulders under the incredulous eye of the worker they were meeting in the Department of Lost or Orphaned Young Witches and Wizards. The woman had to be in her late twenties, but had been staring at Harry and Ginny like a first year seeing their first game of Quidditch. Ginny had only given Harry a meaningful look before seating herself and introducing the both of them to the worker. Miss Fletling, as she had stuttered in introduction, was meant to be going over their credentials and suitability to Teddy. She had at one point insinuated that they were too young to be parents but had quickly rescinded her statement when Ginny looked chuffed and Harry had simply sat forward. ‘ _ Though of course, being such important benefactors to the War, I’m sure you’re quite able!’ _  At the moment, Harry was blocking her out as she stuttered over the names included in the Lupin’s will regarding Teddy’s care. 

“H-Harry James Potter is the rightful guardian and godfather to Edward Remus Lupin. Should he accept, Mr. Lupin will be placed in the full custody of Mr. P-p-potter, and should she be willing, his future spouse.” Here Miss Fletling paused and looked Ginny over. Ginny had not taken well to the woman, and stared her down until the woman went back to reading. “Er, Miss Weasley, if you are in fact willing, I will require your signature here —” Ginny swiped the quill off the desk, scrawling her name elegantly, pausing a moment before scribbling something else as well. Harry was overcome with enough curiosity to lean forward and peek. A large, goofy smile lit his face as he read  _ Ginevra Weasley-Potter  _ on the line stating herself as his future wife, and official second guardian of Teddy Lupin. “Er, yes, right, wonderful. Mr. P-Potter, if you would also sign here please.” Miss Fletling turned the scroll to Harry, who signed his name underneath Ginny’s. Miss Fletling pulled the contract back and double checked everything before rolling it up. An owl sitting to the left of her desk perked up and stuck his leg out for her to tie the roll to him. Once the owl had been sent off, Miss Fletling seemed to reign in a bit of decorum and stood, straightening her robes out. 

“Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, would you like to see Mr. Lupin?” Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand, squeezing it in either excitement or support, Harry couldn’t be sure, but it helped him with both. He nodded at the worker, and led Ginny out of her chair as Miss Fletling moved to enter the room adjoined with her office. Harry didn’t let go of Ginny’s hand, and Ginny refused to allow him if he tried as they followed Miss Fletling. The adjoining room was set up like a nursery, with toys and blankets, and a crib scattered around. Another young woman was sitting at the table set up with a swaddled baby in her arms, cooing and waving his arm around.

Ginny gave his hand a sharp squeeze, honestly drawing Harry out of the shock he found himself in. He was meeting his godson. He was going to take his godson home, with his fiancee, and they were going to raise him. Together. Until he moved out. Or went to Hogwarts; whichever ended up driving the poor kid out of the house first. Harry had no reference from his own parents on how to raise a baby. But Ginny, Ginny had told him they wouldn’t be alone. The family would always be there, and Harry was reminded of how lucky he was to have found the Weasley’s. And now, Teddy would be just as lucky to have found the lovely family Harry had. 

“Oh Harry,  _ look _ at him.” Ginny whispered, now directly over the young woman, a nurse, Harry thought. She held herself better than Miss Fletling had under the pressure of meeting Harry Potter, but still shakily asked Ginny if she would like to hold him. Ginny looked at Harry as if for permission, and Harry chuckled.

“He’s yours too, Gin.” Ginny grinned, her eyes looking decidedly wet as she turned to the nurse and nodded that she wanted to hold the baby. The nurse had her sit down first to help steady her, and passed Teddy carefully into his new guardian’s arms. Harry watched as Ginny became enraptured by the child, instinctively rocking him gently when he fussed at being passed around. A tiny hand emerged from the blankets, and Ginny laughed wetly, giving her pointer finger to the hand, watching as all five tiny fingers wrapped around it. 

“Harry,” her voice broke as the emotion of the moment caught up to her fully and she cried. Miss Fletling excused herself while the nurse stayed, probably to make sure they were comfortable together. Harry found himself walking closer and moving to kneel beside Ginny’s chair. He wrapped one arm around Ginny’s shoulders to lean in, and immediately felt a wave of love run through him. 

Teddy Lupin was indeed his mother’s son. The small tuft of downy baby hair on his head was a bright, unnatural turquoise colour. It was so reminiscent of Tonks’ pink that Harry had to swallow a lump in his throat as he remembered Teddy wouldn’t know those small features of his parents, like he hadn’t know about his. It was up to him now to be both caretaker and storyteller. Harry continued to watch Teddy, marveling at the cooing and soft cries made with every wiggle. Without meaning to, his empty hand reached out and cupped the back of Teddy’s head, helping Ginny support him, and he suddenly and completely felt  _ whole. _

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Hermione was the one to finally suggest they remove themselves from the bed and join the family downstairs. Fred was more reluctant, trying to convince her he was much better company than everyone else. His arm was still stinging from the powerful slap she’d given it when he suggested a few ways he could keep her occupied. But, he was proud of himself if his smirk said anything as they descended the many floors of the Burrow, past the small hall connecting the living room to the kitchen space, and  into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley however was not there, and neither was anyone else. 

“Strange…” Hermione stated, going into the kitchen to make them cups of tea from the warm kettle. Molly couldn’t have been gone long if the water was still warmed. Fred propped himself next to her by the stove, blocking her into the corner as she tended to the tea. Hermione leaned back into his side, not looking away from the tea, but knowing he would be there. Fred smiled, and placed a kiss to the top of her hair, as he had began as a habit before fighting, and fully intended to start it again. 

“Told you it would have been better to stay in bed.” Fred quipped, receiving a playful glare from Hermione, but she didn’t say anything further. Fred leaned into her side, watching her fiddle with all the teas before selecting her favourite and adding it to both of their mugs. “I love you.” he says without preamble, and grins when Hermione’s fingers fumble the teaspoon. She looks up at him and the corner of her mouth twitches up to form a dimple, and stands on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“I love  _ you _ .”  Fred can’t stop the sappy grin and doesn’t mind when Hermione rolls hers eyes at him and continues to tend to the tea. Once it’s finished, she hands him one and turns to face the same way as him, both now facing out to the dining area. 

“Where’s your mother?” 

“Good question,”

A shout from the living room caused Fred and Hermione to tilt their heads in sync to look around the doorway. Molly was just bustling into the kitchen, motioning both of them closer.

“Goodness you two, you walked right past us! I don’t know what's going on in your heads to have missed such a thing!” Molly fussed around them a moment, tugging at Fred’s shirt like she was looking for a tear he’d made like he and George had always managed to make when tussling in the yard. Hermione watched her, amusement clear across her face while Fred mock glared at her over his mother’s head.

“Mum really, I’m fine. We’re both perfectly fine, and promise never to be more than ten feet away from one another.” Fred grinned at the glaring looks he received from his mother and partner at that comment, though Hermione seemed also to enjoy the idea. 

Mrs. Weasley eventually stopped tutting over them and counter. “Come along then, there’s someone you two need to meet before the rest of the family shows up. Ginny’s being so careful with him, bless her, and doesn’t want too much noise to scare him.”

Hermione, originally frowning after Molly as they were led into the next room, suddenly perked up when it dawned on her just what day it was, “Did they get—?” But she stopped, as the picture in the living room was answer enough for them. 

Harry and Ginny sat on the largest couch in the room, both slumped enough into the back to look smaller than they really were, and their heads were both cowed over the small lump of blankets balanced on Harry’s lap. Ginny looked up at them, allowing Fred to notice her eyes were red from crying, but the large smile directed his notice away from them. 

“Hi,” His sister whispered to them, motioning them to step closer. Fred pushed Hermione to go ahead of him, sure she wouldn’t step forward unless he made her. Hermione tentatively stepped to them, sitting down very carefully next to Harry, and nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. Harry looked over and smiled at her, giving Fred a watery grin as well. Hermione leaned in and gave a soft little sigh, like she was shocked at what she saw.

“Well hello Mr. Lupin,” Hermione says down into the blankets, reaching her fingers in to stroke at a piece of downy hair, and cup the dimple in the tiny baby chin. Fred would have stepped forward to meet his new nephew, but he was too enthralled with watching Hermione interact with the baby. Ginny gave him a questioning look, but he gave her some excuse that she seemed to buy but he had no recollection of what he had said. He couldn’t move, and felt like he hadn’t blinked since Hermione had sat down. Now, Ginny was carefully transferring the small Teddy into Hermione’s willing arms, and Fred watched as her face melted into a silly grin, not looking away from the baby once. 

“She’s going to be a wonderful mother, Freddie.” His mother had snuck up beside him, watching the new family introduce themselves. Fred started enough to cause Molly to chuckle at him.

Fred frowned down at his mother playfully, a cunning grin cutting across his cheeks, “Don't be putting ideas in her head just yet mother dearest. I haven’t wrapped my head around this whole thing yet.” 

“But you will be having children eventually dear; you couldn’t keep Hermione away from the idea I think,” she nodded her head down to Hermione, who was now tucking the blanket back from Teddy’s head, revealing his dark caramel hair. Fred was stuck on the image.

“We’ll see, mum.”

Molly frowned, but watched her son watch his mate, and shared a secret smile with herself. “I suppose we will, dear.”

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _


	11. Chapter 11

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

_ August, 1998 _

*.*.*

The weeks went by without a hitch. Harry’s birthday had come and gone, with the whole week leading up to the last day of July full of fans trying to greet him and wish him well; to the point where Harry locked himself away in the Burrow where the magical boundaries were greater than those of Grimmauld’s. Staying at the Burrow allowed Harry to be outside without a mass of press coming to interview him. Ginny had fled to the Burrow days before him, taking little Teddy with her to avoid questions and gossip about him in his first month at home with them. Molly, in this case, was ecstatic to receive the baby, trying to hold him as constantly as she could. Ginny allowed her mother to, well, mother her and Harry, glad for the small reprieve from being a new mother. As much as she loved her new little family, Ginny spoke happily to Hermione whenever the two were alone, admitting how hard she had found this first month. 

Such a conversation happened in the second week of August, a day before she and Harry were about to return to Grimmauld Place. Ginny and Hermione were sat underneath the large wilting tree near the pond, sipping the large mugs of tea they had taken out of the house. Harry, Fred, George, Percy, and Arthur were all in the Burrow slowly driving Molly mad, so the younger witches had snuck out when they saw their chance. 

“The house is beginning to wear on me.” Ginny had said, leading Hermione to ask her is she mean the Burrow, “No, Grimmauld Place. I know it belonged to Sirius, but I’m beginning to think even Harry is finding it dreary for Teddy.”

“Well, would you rather be here with your mother?” Hermione grinned, enjoying the playfully shudder Ginny gave at the thought.

“No, but,” Hermione had been shocked to see Ginny look shy at what she said next, “I don't know if Harry is ready to leave and find a new house.”

“Because of Sirius?”

“And his parents,” Hermione gave her friend a confused look, and Ginny had explained by dropping a large bomb on Hermione, “I want to move to Godric’s Hollow.” 

 

Since then, Hermione had kept silent about Ginny’s ongoing battle with Harry on trying to move out of Grimmauld. Even Fred had no idea about it, and Hermione and he had told one another almost everything going on in their lives when away from one another. George had  once again taken to calling them ‘gooey’ behind Hermione’s back. The entire conversation with Ginny was practically forgotten beneath all of the work Hermione helped George and Fred with at the shop, putting a lot of her energy into helping them improve their spellwork and potions (not that they needed it, she would always say before casually changing each charm). All was completely forgotten, the evening of the day the Daily Prophet provided the official rules the Ministry had put in place after their Soul-Bond charm wasn't proving the raise in birth rate they were originally hoping for. 

“Did you two see this?” George burst out, coming into the apartment after running downstairs to quickly unlock the shop. Verity was kind enough to open for them while the boys finished getting ready on weekend mornings. Upon George’s sudden entrance, Fred jumped back from Hermione, his hands pulling themselves as quickly as he could from her top.

“Blimey, George, knock!” Fred complained. George gave his twin a smarmy grin, waggling his eyebrows. 

“It’s my flat too Freddie. Morning Miss Granger.” George tilted his head at Hermione, who was cooking up eggs for the three of them. Unlike Fred, she seemed to remember George was only a step away and had insisted Fred get dressed before they began cooking breakfast. Hermione nodded a ‘good morning’ back to George without looking away from the stove top, feeling a familiar blush rush over her cheeks. 

“What are we supposed to see?” Fred asked, slightly exasperated with his twin. George handed the newspaper over, and Fred’s eyes grew comically wide. “Are they allowed to do this?”

“Well they already tattooed everyone, I’m thinking this isn't much more of a jump for them.” Hermione grew curious, and came over to the twins, wiping her hands on a tea towel from the kitchen. She looked over their shoulders, and immediately exclaimed in outrage.

“They’re implementing a marriage  _ law _ ?” she snatched the paper from Fred’s fingers, leaving the man to give his twin a roll of his eyes past his still open hands. George smirked but looked to Hermione rather than pick up a conversation with Fred. “This is ridiculous! How could they force such a thing? Marriage doesn’t necessarily mean more babies?! It means unhappy couples, more likely.”

Fred got a sour look on his face, pushing George to pipe up for his twin this time, “Er, not  _ every _ couple though, right ‘Mione?” 

Hermione looked up, a frown still marring her brow, but it smoothed out when she noticed Fred’s expression, “Oh, no, not you Freddie. I know we’re perfectly happy, but what about the others? Charlie, or Percy. Ron even! He’s been absolutely dreadful throughout this whole thing. I’ve barely seen him in the last two months.”

Fred shrugged, already less tense after Hermione’s assurance, “Mum’s says she knows what he's up to when he's out, so I’m not too worried about Ronniekins. He’ll come around when he feels like it.” 

“But still, to force everyone to marry their bond mate seems a bit cruel. What if they really  _ don't  _ get along. Just because their souls match doesn’t mean their personalities will.” Hermione was beginning to get worried, and noticing this, Fred took the paper out of her hands delicately so as not to rip anything. 

“Alright, it’s no big deal to us, right? We’re already comfortable with one another, another hitch in the charms won’t change anything.” Hermione gave him a weird look, and even George looked at him with a bit of pity. “What?” 

“Fred, this law is bound to everyone affected by the soul bonds. The rules are right here;” Hermione took up the paper again, “Each couple must be legally married in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic no more than a year from today’s date. A child must be produced in the year after the marriage. Should a child be born before the engagement is over, a second child is necessary to fulfill the place in the year after marriage. Please be sure this enforced law will aid in the Wizarding World building itself anew and growing stronger in our new age of triumph.” Hermione finished with a flourish, practically throwing the paper onto the island counter. “Still okay with this?”

Fred was a little shocked, but no more than George, who looked ready to burst judging by the red shade his face had gone.

“I’ve gotta go.” Was all he said before going to the fireplace and Flooing out of the apartment. Hermione assumed he had gone to Angelina’s as there weren't many places connected to the twins’ Floo besides the Burrow. Fred and Hermione were left alone in the flat, though not in the atmosphere Fred had been hoping for this morning. He was left facing Hermione, both of them feeling something they couldn’t decide was bad or good. Hermione and Fred stood facing one another for a full minute before they both broke, rushing towards one another. Hermione crashed into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist as his wrapped over her shoulders and his other hands found its way into her har.

“I don’t know why I’m so upset over this…”

“Because we don’t have control, Hermione.” Fred sighed, ruffling some of the hair in front of his face, blowing them around. He pulled his arms back, putting his hands on her shoulders to push her back to face him. “But I need you to know, love, I have every intention of marrying you, and I’m not threatened by this.”

Hermione looked up at him, slightly shocked, “What?”

Fred smiled softly and left a kiss on the tip of her nose, “Since I realized just what these tattoos meant, I knew I was going to try and whisk you off your feet, and marry the hell out of you.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose, “Fred, that doesn’t even make sense — hmf!” Fred pulled her in for a kiss, snogging her senseless until Hermione forgot about Fred’s tendency to make up phrases only he and George could understand. Eventually Hermione remembered they had been talking about something pretty serious, and pulled away from Fred. “Are we going with this then?”

“I don’t think we actually have much choice Miss Granger. Seems you really  _ are  _ my fiancee, as much as you hated to admit it before.”

Hermione gave him a droll look, but decided not to touch that one, well aware she had been careful not to assume anything with Fred. Standing on her tiptoes, Hermione pressed another soft kiss to Fred’s lips, getting a happy smile from him in return.

“I love you, Fred Weasley.”

“Same to you, my love.”

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

The rest of the Weasley boys were not as forthcoming as Fred, creating a tense environment during that week’s Sunday dinner at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had sat everyone down at the table before bustling into the kitchen, leaving all her sons to stew in silence. Hermione had been sitting at the bench seat just before Percy and Charlie had arrived, but hadn’t stayed much longer. Usually she would pick up conversation easily with Percy about work, as he was always ready to speak about politics, but today he hadn’t looked up from the table yet. Charlie as well was staring at one spot in the dining room, his brow furrowed grumpily. Rather than try and pull either of them into conversation, Hermione slowly shut her book, and slipped it off the table as she stood. Neither seemed to notice her leave as she all but ran into the kitchen. 

“Can I help you, Molly?” Hermione came up next to Mrs. Weasley, wiping her hands on the towel laid on the counter. Mrs. Weasley smiled kindly and pushed her a clean tray and a bowl filled with apples. 

“Of course dear, I’ll never say no to a Hermione Granger apple pie.” Mrs. Weasley grinned and turned back to the main course. Hermione happily took the apples to the opposite counter for more space, swished her wand and set the apples to carefully peeling themselves. She watched for a moment as the peels turned into perfect curls before preparing the crust by hand. She still hadn’t shown Molly how she made the crust, content in knowing she was able to create such a tasty dessert all on her own, and having no one else know how to do it just right. Once the crust was lined in the pan, she motioned the now prepared apple slices into the pan, watching carefully to make sure they laid themselves flat. Once done, she manually laid the top over the apples, and placed the glazed peels, now curled into tight rosebud shapes, along the top of the pie. Once happy with her master piece, Hermione levitated it to the oven, placing it into the warmed terracotta, and wiped her hands on her jeans as she backed up. Oddly, rather than the cupboard she was expecting to back into, her bum made contact with a hard body, not a hard counter.

“Hello there, love.” Fred says into her ear, breathing across her skin causing goosebumps to pop over her cheek. Hermione held in the gasp she wanted to let out, but was well aware of Fred’s mother only a few steps away from them. Mrs. Weasley seemed to have a third sense when it came to her son’s mischief, and turned to see Fred curled around Hermione. 

“Fredrick Gideon, leave the poor girl alone. She’s bound to be sick of you if you won’t leave her alone for two minutes!”

“It’s been well over ten, mother dear.” Fred grins, while Hermione feels the need to smack her palm to her face in exasperation. 

“Fred!” Mrs. Weasley sighs, exasperated as well. Fred gives his mother a grin, leaves one more kiss on Hermione’s cheek, and decides to cut his losses and leaves the kitchen. Hermione gives Molly a ‘what can you do?’ shrug, and the two woman chuckle together. 

“Sometimes, Hermione dear, I wonder how it was that boy managed to be bonded to such a level-headed witch.” Mrs. Weasley shook her head fondly, and slid a small chopping board over to Hermione, filled with a vegetable she wasn’t familiar with, but looked like a pink carrot. Hermione stepped up next to her future mother-in-law and gladly took up the chopping. The two women worked in tandem together for a few minutes, moving around one another fluidly. 

“I wish Ginny had taken to cooking when she was younger. She was always following the twins, or trying to get Ron to play with her. I missed out on having a daughter in the kitchen.”

Hermione shifted back and forth, but spoke without a waver in her voice, “Perhaps that’s a good thing, Harry says Ginny is Godric-awful at Muggle cooking. Who knows what would have happened with a wizard recipe.” Molly tried to stifle a laugh at her daughter’s expense, but she shared a secret smile with Hermione.

A knock sounded behind them, and Hermione spun around to see Fleur standing just i the doorway of the kitchen, Bill not two steps behind her. “Good afternoon, ‘Ermione, Molly.” Fleur politely said, giving them both a large warm smile afterwards. Molly greeted her warmly and ushered her and Bill in, sitting them down at the table.

“Hello dears, you’ll want to sit in here a bit I think. The other boys aren’t taking the news very well.” Mrs. Weasley says, but misses the glance passing between Fleur and Bill. 

“What news, mum?” Bill asks, accepting the tea Hermione holds up in offer. Fleur declines with a small shake of her head. Molly lowers her voice, as if sharing top secret information.

“The rules laid out for the marriage law, means your brothers are going to have to meet their bond mates. They’re not too keen.” Bill nodded sagely, his eyes flicking over to Hermione, who was tinkering with the tea and had her back turned to them. Fleur however blew out a breath, like she was relieved.

“Oh, I thought maybe…”

“Thought what dear?” Molly asked, confused by her daughter-in-law. Hermione by now was able to return with the tea, carefully sliding Bill’s his respective mug. Bill gave her a ‘cheers’ with his raised mug, revealing the edge of his bond tattoo that housed Fleur’s delicate patronus prints. Hermione noticed the prints seemed off, but found it rude to ask about the tattoo and turned her head back to the conversation.

Fleur was flustered, and Hermione deduced it was from Molly’s previous question. She leaned up on the table, blowing over the rim of her tea. “Oh, well, we ‘ad s-some news…” Bill laid down his mug, looking over at his wife with a tiny grin lifting the corners of his lips. 

Molly waved the girl on, not really noticing Fleur’s nervousness, “Go on dear, we’re listening.”

Fleur blushed prettily, seemed to pull her shoulders up in an act of bravery, looked her mother-in-law in the eyes, and blurted, “We’re pregnant!”

Many things happened in the span of the next two minutes. Harry and Ginny, toting a currently napping Teddy, stepped into the front door, fresh from the Apparition point. They had met one another in Diagon Alley and had not been able to Floo in. In the same moment, Fred entered the kitchen with George right behind him, and Charlie with Percy in a headlock just behind them. Molly dropped the pan she had been holding, causing the scalloped potatoes just freshly made to go flying through the room and land messily on Mr. Weasley’s shoulder as he stepped out of the Floo and turned to face the kitchen, just catching Fleur’s announcement along with the rest of the house. 

Silence reigned over everyone until Bill cleared his throat, which seemed to break the spell over his family. Hermione congratulated them both warmly before Molly was smothering them in hugs and salty kisses, happy tears collecting on her cheeks. The rest of the family crowded in, his brothers giving Bill slaps on the back, aside from Percy who shook his brother’s hand. Bill took the handshake respectfully, appreciating the effort rather than chuckling over the formality. 

Hermione eventually slipped away from the crowded table and returned to the stove, taking off all the finished food, and removing her ready apple pie from the oven. She wasn't surprised this time when Fred’s arms came around her waist, and his chin nuzzled itself into the crook of her neck. Hermione adjusted her grip on the pie, lifting her elbows to rest lightly on his arms as she finished moving the food to serving dishes.

“You could help out, you know? You’re standing here anyways.” Hermione says pleasantly, but there is a tone of warning that Fred does not miss. He takes up a few of the dishes and spoons them into the bowls Hermione had ready for them. Hermione flicks them away and they begin to place themselves along the center of the table in between the family congratulating the new parents. Everyone is still too keyed up to notice, so once his job is finished, Fred returns to his place behind Hermione, his hands resting on her hips this time. 

“No headache?” he whispers to her sweetly, brushing a strand of hair away before returning his hand and kisses the now cleared spot on her shoulder. Hermione shakes her head, glad the question can now be asked without concern, both aware the headache are no longer something they need to worry about. In the past few weeks, whenever either had an inkling of a headache, they wouldn’t hesitate to call the other over and revel in the companionship, relieving the coming pain. They were aware the forced closeness wasn’t something most other couples seemed to need, but they didn’t mind. They were in love; nothing was going to change that. 

“And you? No headache?” Hermione asks once Fred is comfortably against her back once more. Fred mutters a no, swaying them back and forth gently as Hermione finishes up. She isn’t sure if he’s even aware he was doing it, but Fred began to hum in her ear. “Freddie, you’re humming,”

“Hm? Am I?” He says, but doesn’t stop swaying, and continues humming. “Perhaps I’m happy, ‘Mione.”

“And what has you so happy Mr. Weasley?” her hand moves on its own, trailing her fingers over his knuckles laying over her stomach. Fred hums one last note, a pondering lilt to the end of it prompting an answer for her question.

“My family is growing.”

“Yes,” Hermione says, aware of the fact as well.

“I’m glad we’re all here to see that.” he mutters into her shoulder, so quietly Hermione almost missed it. BUt she didn’t. She heard, and understood exactly what he meant. 

“I am too.” Hermione whispers back, and allows him to continue his little impromptu dance, waiting for the dinner to finish and their family to pull themselves from the joy of a new arrival. 

Eventually Molly is the one to breakup the celebration, and forces everyone to sit. She comes over and relieves Hermione of the last few dishes, giving her a pat on the cheek as she presses her to Fred’s side of the table.

“Sit down Hermione, dear. You’ve done quite enough for me today. Fred, dear, do pull out her chair, the poor girl is about to collapse from all the extra work!” Molly flutters past them, once more pushing Hermione away from anything related to helping. Fred does indeed pull out his fiancee's chair, playfully pulling her back into it so she almost slips off the end. Ignoring the glare she gives him, Fred seats himself next to her, with George on his other side. 

Just as Molly lays the last dish out for dinner to start, there’s a timid knock on the front door. Looking startled, Molly gives everyone present a small frown, unsure who it could be. “Arthur? Were we…?”

“Not that I’m aware of my dear,” Mr. Weasley stands from the head of the table, being the closest to the door, and opens it slowly, one hand hovering over his pocket that houses his wand. The person at the door seemed to shock him, as he stepped back and away from the door.

“Ron? What are you doing at the door?” Ron was in fact the one at the door, with someone else behind him. Hermione craned her neck around Fred, and had to look over Harry’s to see Ron clearly. His hair was matted down from the rain he must have met on the road up to the Burrow from the Apparition point beyond the gate. 

“Hi dad, mum,” Ron waved over his dad’s shoulder to his mother, who was looking at him in concern, “I’ve, er, brought someone for everyone to meet.” Molly perked up, gesturing wildly for Arthur to let them in. Ron however, paused at the door, still holding one arm behind his back, like he was holding onto the person behind him tightly.

“It’s just, I need everyone to be quiet. Don’t overwhelm her, please.” Ron begging was a new experience for everyone, even for Hermione who sat back diligently, pulling Fred to sit back as well. Mr. Weasley waved his youngest son in, paused a moment, then took the hand of the person just outside the front stoop.

The girl who stepped in next to Ron was extremely familiar to Hermione, with her thick black hair hitting the bottom of her shoulder blades, and smooth dark skin; however, her the left side of her face was so badly marred, her identity was hidden. Ron had her other hand in his, and turned her towards the family, who were all staring. Hermione couldn’t look away, feeling badly for doing so. The girl was Romilda Vane — a Gryffindor, and one of the girls who Hermione hadn’t been able to stand as she had constantly grabbed onto any sort of cliche or  new trend rather than think for herself. However, thinking back, Hermione could remember the girly Gryffindor fighting during the Battle of Hogwarts, and immediately felt a surge of pride for this girl in front of her. 

Ron led Romilda to stand next to him so Mr. Weasley could close the door behind them. Everyone was silent as they silently documented all the scars littering her face. Large gashes, which had obviously been healed over once or twice already, gaped over her left cheek and curved under her chin, barely leaving any skin that wasn’t puckered an angry red. The eyebrow on that side was split in half, the thick line of hair bare in the middle, unable to grow through the thick scar. However the most harsh looking line was the one going horizontally over both eyes, leaving the irises that telltale blue-white colour of blindness. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _


	12. Chapter 12

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

_ August, 1998 _

*.*.*

Romilda didn’t move her head around, obviously, but her hand left Ron’s to lay it on his elbow delicately, “Who’s all here?” her voice was soft, unlike the loud squeal Hermione could remember coming frequently from the younger girl. Her posture was relaxed, but there was an edge to her shoulders that posed the struggle she must have been going through. Ron turned his body to face where Ginny was sitting, just across from where Hermione was. 

“Ginny is here, and Hermione too. They’re just in front of us,” Ginny hasn’t moved, Teddy silent in her arms, like he could understand the situation. 

Hermione shifts forward on her chair, sitting just on the edge, “Hello Romilda,”

Romlida’s hair moves the smallest bit as she adjusts herself to face where Hermione’s voice had come from, and a small smile lifts the corner of her lips, creating dimples on the opposite side of the scar. “Hello Hermione, Ginny. I’m glad you’re here,” 

Hermione frowns a moment, unsure what she could have meant. Until her brow smooths out, suddenly aware this is Romilda’s way of saying ‘good to see you’, without saying the contradicting statement. “I’m glad you’re here too,” she finds herself saying genuinely, realizing is true. 

Romilda’s smile stutters a moment, and whether she knows Hermione figured her out or not, she nods to her, thankful for the precaution. 

“Well,” Molly claps her hands gently, trying to break the silence and move them along, “it’s very lovely to meet you, my dear. I’m Molly,” Molly moves forward and puts only one hand over the fingers that haven’t left Ron’s arm yet. Romilda doesn’t jump, persee, but her body language is easy enough to read that she is nervous of the new contact.

“Rommy, this is my mum,” Ron tells her, not looking away from her face. He turns himself, and Romilda follows, able to face Molly head on this way. Molly greets the girl, taking her free hand in her own, patting it with gentle strokes, as if she knew exactly what the girl needed for reassurance. Hermione found herself seeking out Harry, and found him beginning to look over at her as well. He looked  _ emotional _ ; it was the best thing Hermione could think of to describe her best friend. 

Ron moved again, taking a step closer to the table, and pulling out an empty seat. Molly transfigured one of the socks left on the ground into a new chair for Ron, and pushed it in next to Romilda’s chair. Romilda followed him like a shadow, moving her body with every inch Ron moved. Hermione watched her friend, and who she could only assume now was his destined bond-mate. She realized he had been moving deliberately, adjusting his whole body to mirror where Romilda either needed to face or needed to walk towards. Her eyes began cloudy, the emotion of the evening beginning to wash over her. 

Silently, Hermione allowed tears to collect and pool in her eyes, knowing Romilda couldn’t know she was crying, or that she was crying for her. Fred’s hand came over without preamble, and she clutched onto it with both hands quickly, needed the anchor he was holding out for her. Ron was being so  _ sweet _ , moving his fiancee with the ease of one who had practice, showing the family exactly where he had been the past few weeks. All the dinners he had missed, or evenings his friends wondered after him — Ron had been healing, and healing with someone he loved. 

Once they were settled, Ron began introductions, starting with his father, who was now back in his seat across from Bill on the other end. They were sitting with Arthur on Ron’s left, and Romilda on his right, and Charlie on Romilda’s right. Beginning with Arthur, Ron introduced each of his family members, using his hand to position Romilda’s hand on the table, fingers pointed towards each seat at the table. Once he got to George and Fred, five people in, he stopped and glared at the two of them.

“Dammit, which of you is which?” Ron growled, the first sign of any frustration he usually would give during a stressful situation. Everyone took pause, until Fred removed his hand from Hermione’s adopting the same slouch as his twin. 

“You tell us, Ronniekins,” Fred starts, and George immediately takes up the conversation, lilting his voice to match Fred’s.

“We’ve been wondering the same thing all day!”

“Poor Hermione here could have been hanging off the wrong one of us,”

“Yes, ‘Mione, love, mind yourself next time, yeah?” George gives the younger witch a wink, recoiling from the glare she gives him in return. 

“If you two don’t watch it, neither of you are getting any dessert,” she turns to look up at Fred, “and I made apple pie.”

Romilda snorts, and immediately covers her mouth with her right hand. Her giggles however, escape her hand, and don’t seem to be able to stop. Fred looks at Hermione and grins, getting a smile from his girl as well. Ron is still trying to glare at the twins, but eventually relaxes and chuckles with Romilda until he is able to continue the introductions for her. The rest of the Weasley brood is much more relaxed with the help of the twins and Hermione. 

Once all introductions are made, including Fleur once more announcing her pregnancy (and receiving a “bloody hell Bill, that was quick!” from Ron, who then received a smack from his dad), Mrs. Weasley resumed the dinner, which now needed a quick re-heating charm. Everyone dug in, conversation rolling out in different volumes, as per usual. Romilda sat quietly, not contributing to conversation unless prompted; she seemd to be enjoying the noise, listening to everyone one at a time, whether they were aware of her listening or not. Hermione took a few glances at her throughout the meal, as if making sure she was comfortable. But Ron was content in helping her. Every time she laid down her fork, Ron either handed her something she needed, or leaned in to listen to her request. Hermione stopped herself from tearing up again, not wanting Ron to see her so happy and proud of him, lest he get flustered. 

Once the dessert was served, and Hermione had finished as much as she could of her piece, she sat back to relax, her shoulders slumping after the long day. A hand on her lap broke her from her thoughts, and she looked up to find Fred watching her in concern.

“‘Mione, are you alright? Is your head bothering you?” He whispered down to her, but Hermione shook her head, not wanting him to be concerned for no reason. “Are you not hungry?”

“No, I’m fine. Just,” she paused, and sighed a little, “I’m a bit, exhausted, is all.” 

Fred frowned, his eyes searching hers for something he apparently saw, as in the next moment he was standing, taking her elbow to help her up. Mrs. Weasley paused her conversation with Ron and Romilda, looking up at her other son with a small amount of concern.

“Fred, is everything alright?” Ron looked up too, and gave Hermione a lifted brow in question. She waved him off at the same time that Fred told his mum he was going to take Hermione home to the flat tonight. Molly looked ready to fight it, but Fred pushed on.

“Ginny and Harry are staying over with Teddy tonight anyways mum, they can have Gin’s room, and Hermione can come over to the flat and get some rest.” Fred paused, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to say more, but the matron waved them off, agreeing with the idea.

Hermione was a bit surprised, but allowed herself to be dragged around the room to say her goodbyes (giving Teddy a kiss on his sleepy cheek), and giving Romilda a soft spoken goodbye in her ear so she wouldn’t miss it. Once finished, Fred told George he’d see him at home, and brought Hermione straight into the Floo. Feeling suddenly drained, Hermione climbed in and wrapped her arm around his waist, propping herself up. Fred laid his arm over her shoulders, keeping her tightly against his side, announced “Wheezes’ Flat!” and they were off.

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

The landing in the twin’s flat was more comfortable than normal, as her grip on Fred had made it through the Floo, giving her more balance as they were spat out of the fireplace. Fred stepped out, shaking the leftover soot off his shoulders, and playfully blowing a few specks out of Hermione’s hair.

“Now Miss Granger, let’s see about giving you that relaxing evening I promised,” Fred left her in the living room, moving into the kitchen himself. Hermione followed him with her eyes, curious to what exactly Fred Weasley constituted as ‘relaxing’.  “Sit down Granger!”

Rolling her eyes to herself, Hermione decided sitting didn’t sound too bad, so made herself comfortable on the couch. Fred came back not much longer, with his shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows. 

“Bathtubs ready for you, madam.” Fred announced with a flourishing bow, landing next to her on the couch. He lifted her legs up, depositing them onto his lap, in the process, turning her to face him. 

“You took me to your apartment to give me a bath?” Hermione asked, only showing she was teasing once Fred had gone completely red faced. “Were you planning on joining me , Mr. Weasley?” 

Fred went bright red this time, causing Hermione to try and hide her snickering, failing quickly when Fred noticed, and tickled the bottom of her foot in retaliation. Once he decided she was well punished, he let go of her foot, instead resting his hands on her legs. Once Hermione calmed down enough, she became aware of the steady motion of Fred’s hand, dragging back and forth soothingly along her calf. 

“I’m joking, Freddie. Nothing uncomfortable, remember?” Hermione whispered, receiving a nod and a tight smile, but he didn’t look up from where his hand lay. Feeling slightly guilty from her tease, Hermione reached over to touch his hair, just light enough to cause him to turn his head. “Will you lay down with me first? Just for a snuggle…”

Fred cocked his eyebrow at her but shifted his body to lay along the length of her back, collecting her up against his chest. Hermione turned to face him before he could hide his face in her hair, and cupped his jaw. Fred gave her his attention this time, watching as she delicately traced his features, taking her time along the ridge of his nose, connecting his freckles with the edge of her finger nail. Eventually, Hermione felt Fred’s arms relax around her, her eyes flickering up to his and finding them droopy with sleep. A rush of warmth ran through her body, making her tummy feel full and her arms heavy. 

Trying to be delicate, Hermione lifted Fred’s arm off her waist, draping it next to the pillow his head lay on. 

“Mione, what’re you doing?” Fred mumbles, his head half in the pillow. 

“Taking that bath; I think you need more rest than I do, love. Have a nap, and I’ll join you later, yeah?” Hermione left him with a kiss on his cheek, and made her way into the bathroom. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Hermione was completely reclined in the tub, eyes shut in content at the relaxing warmth of the bath. No noise had come from the rest of the flat, which meant Fred really had fallen asleep where she had left him on the couch. It surprised her a bit; normally the Weasley twins were a non-stoppable entity, being cheery and talkative every moment there were eyes on them. Perhaps her exhaustion wasn’t her own; the bad reaction they had both felt from their tattoos might have been more bodily exhausting than they first thought. Neither she nor Fred had had a full night’s rest since their forced comas, both working at the shop on and off together. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint knocking on the bathroom door. Snapping her eyes open, Hermione adjusted herself in the tub, moving the still fluffy bubbles (mentally thanking Ginny for the spell to do so) to cover her modesty before calling out.

Fred stepped into the room, his eyes playfully covered by his hand, but his smirk is too large to hide, “Everyone decent?”

Hermione rolls her eyes, but gives herself once more quick check over, “Yes, now that my secret boyfriend jumped out the window, you can look now.” Fred drops his hand, giving her a playful glare. “Ask a dumb question…”

“Yes, yes, point Granger.” Fred suddenly seems to realize just where he is, and what he’s looking at. Hermione waits for her fiance to collect himself, a dull feeling of something like pride filling her, at causing her handsome Weasley to look at her this way. 

“Thinking of joining me again, Mr. Weasley?” Hermione teased, watching Fred’s eyes flicker to hers, growing darker with arousal. 

“If you keep suggesting it Hermione, I’m going to think you might be serious.” Fred rasps, making Hermione blush from his tone. She shifted a bit, trying to keep the movement subtle, however from the look Fred threw her, she knew she’d failed. He took a step closer, watching her at the same time Hermione watched him. He stepped next to the tub, his eyes only moving over her once before meeting her eyes again, and sinking down to his knees next to her head. She felt the air leave her lungs, but kept eye contact with Fred, as he leaned in, one hand on the tub’s ledge, the other coming up to brush a stray strand of hair away from her cheekbone. Her curls latched onto his finger from the humidity, but Fred just smiled serenely and tucked it straight behind her ear. 

“Is this okay?” Fred whispers to her, and Hermione can only nod, her eyelids heavy. Fred continues, leaning in slowly and nipping once at her bottom lip. Hermione lets out a tiny moan, but Fred hears it, immediately pursuing another kiss, his tongue tracing her lip for Hermione to allow him to deepen the kiss. Eventually Fred pulls away, tracing Hermione’s bottom lip with his thumb to try and keep the contact. 

“I love you.” Hermione whispers to him, receiving a blinding smile in return.

“I love you too, Hermione.”

Hermione leans back to focus on his whole face, “Are you  _ sure _ you don’t want to join me?”

Fred groans, letting his head land on the edge of the tub in defeat, with Hermione’s soft peals of laughter filling the room. “How about we compromise? I give you a massage now, and you join me in bed instead?”

Hermione pretended to think about it before nodding her approval of the plan. She shifted forward, revealing her bare back, but kept her arms crossed over her knees to cover her front, aware neither of them were really ready to take that step yet. Fred had moved forward with her, kneeling over the tub enough to dip his hands and reach the center of her back. The first bit of pressure from his fingers along her spine caused a small, embarrassing moan to pass her lips.

Fred chuckled, but didn’t say anything to break the heavy atmosphere, continuing to trail his fingers down her back until just the very end of his finger grazed the water, and made his way back up. Hermione could barely breath, keeping her back straight, and squeezing her eyes shut to hold in any other sounds her body might make. Fred was more focused on her skin than Hermione’s own struggles, transfixed by the contrast between his chapped pale fingers, and the soft sun-tinged brown of her shoulder blades. Gripping the edge of the porcelain tub with one hand to balance himself, he placed his other flat against the base of her neck, just grazing the small curls of hair coiled from the steam in the room. Hermione let out a soft exhale, causing Fred’s lips to twitch before he pushed into the top of her spine, causing Hermione’s breathy noise to evolve into a moan. Fred could feel his stomach tighten from the noise, holding back his own groan to save him the embarrassment of explaining just how much he was already enjoying this. Continuing across ther shoulder, Fred gave Hermione the best neck rub he thought he’d ever been able to do, staying as silent as possible after each breathy moan or soft sigh Hermione released when he hit the right spot. Eventually, Hermione had sunk into the bath, far enough that Fred was touching the water each time he dipped between her shoulder blades. 

“Fred…” Hermione hummed, causing Fred to freeze, and his stomach to flip from her voice. 

He tried to clear his throat first, replying, “Yeah?” in a tone still too husky even to his ears. Hermione didn’t seem to mind, humming a moment before lifting her hand up to grab at his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the tub. Fred was transfixed on the milky leg that flashed through the bubbles at the other end of the tub.

“You’re making me sleepy, love.” She said softly, indeed sounding half awake. Fred let out a chuckle now, gaze broken from the leg disappearing into the water once more. He removed his hand from her shoulder, instead picking up her hand still holding his own, and leaning down to place a kiss on her knuckles. Hermione peeked up at him, wrinkling up her nose and smiling. “You’re a bit of a romantic, Mr. Weasley.” 

Fred winked, kissing her wrist this time, “Don’t tell anyone, or you’ll regret it.”

Hermione giggled quietly, while Fred stood, shaking out his tingling legs. Looking around, he noticed the fluffy towel laid along the counter, and snatched it up.

“Up and out Miss Granger, before I have to save my beautiful fiancee from drowning.” Hermione gave him a bit of a ‘don’t make me regret this’ look, but stood up nonetheless. Fred stayed gentlemanly, and pointedly looked away over his shoulder. Eventually he knew, they would reach a point in their relationship where something this intimate could be could be embraced much differently, but now, he was happy with where they stood. 

Hermione took the ends of the towel from him, wrapping it around and tucking the ends in. She waved her fingers at the tub, allowing it to drain out. Once situated, Hermione rose on her toes, placing a small peck of a kiss to his lips. “Thank you,”

“My pleasure, love.” Fred whispered back to her, leaning down to give a deeper kiss to the gorgeous witch in his arms. Just before he meant to pull away, the flat door burst open, with George announcing himself.  _ Loudly _ .

“Just in time it would seem.” Hermione says cheerily, her earlier tired fog disappearing once out of the warm water. 

“Nosy git probably hoped he’d catch us in the act,” Fred grumbled, not feeling particularly ready to face his brother and share Hermione again. 

Hermione hummed, leaning into his chest in a lazy hug, both content with holding one another. “Are you still ready for bed, Freddie?”

Fred entire body tingled from the innocent question, looking down at Hermione Granger, cuddled up in his arms, in just a towel, and her curly hair bundled up in a crazy damp bun. Unable to stop the happy grin, Fred leaned in to kiss her once more. “Oh, definitely.” He kissed her forehead, and released her from his hold, gathering the neatly folded pile of clothes she had left on the counter. Hermione snatched them back from him, and followed him out the door, leaving the steamy bathroom behind. Fred led the way to his room, which unfortunately took them past George who was reclined on the sofa, his feet propped up on the back and his head hanging onto the floor. 

George had arrived into the flat and lain out onto the first piece of furniture he found. His head had been pounding all day, and it was beginning to affect his eyesight. However, once he spotted the couple escaping the bathroom together, his head popped straight up, his eyes wide as he clocked his twin’s movements. Fred gave him a look, clamming George up immediately, but it didn’t stop him from watching the couple move into the bedroom and closing the door shut behind them. All was silent until George broke out into a wide grin, giggling to himself and thinking of all the ways to tease the happy couple tomorrow. His head decided now was a good time to send a sharp pain across his eyes, and he clenched them tightly, waiting for the feeling to subside. 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

Fred turned his back, looking through his wardrobe while Hermione raided his drawers, finding something to sleep in. He changed as well, taking his time until he heard Hermione tell him she was finished. Once slipping on a shirt, Fred turned to enter the bed, but stopped in the middle of the floor to watch Hermione. She had chosen a shirt similar to the one he was already wearing; just a white t-shirt he’d normally wear underneath his work clothes, and a pair of boxers he rarely wore because of the horrid orange plaid pattern. She had released her hair from the bun, and the normal smooth waves of her hair had crinkled and set from being so tightly bound together, now forming extra kinks in the already bushy hair. She’s left the bedside light on, switching the main off before slipping into the bed, where she was now folding the covers back to invite him in. 

The whole picture was stunning, and knocked Fred off his feet if he were to be honest. Hermione noticed his pause, and looked up to meet his eyes, exposing the blush along her cheekbones. The rosy flush just made the scene more inviting, and Fred had to force himself to think of things other than Hermione, in his bed, in his clothes, to contain himself and keep the situation under control. 

“Fred? You okay?” Hermione asked, but stayed where she was, waiting for him to move. Fred nodded, but took another second to take a deep breath before moving to the end of their ( _ his _ !) bed.

“Do you know just how utterly gorgeous you are, Hermione Granger?” Fred rumbled, not looking away from Hermione as he kneeled on the end of the mattress. Hermione watched his every move, not taking her wide eyes off of him, as he lifted his other leg, taking one more step closer to her. Once only a foot away, Hermione lifted a hand, trailing it across the fabric of his shirt covered stomach. Fred released a stuttered breath, his knees almost buckling under him. Hermione waited for him to collect himself, before gripping the middle of his shirt, just over his belly button, tugging him closer to her. Fred had to shuffle once more to accommodate her request, ending up leaning over her enough for her to only crane her neck back and lave a heady kiss over his lips. Gasping, Fred released her lips, allowing Hermione to sit up, kneeling to mirror Fred. As he caught his breath, Hermione trailed her fingers up to loop her arms over his neck, bringing his head down to her once more, kissing around his eyes, leaving two on each cheek, a peck on the tip of his nose, and finally a breathtaking kiss. Fred moaned into her mouth, Hermione swallowing the sound as she dragged on hand up into his hair, tugging the ends with each flick of her tongue along his. 

Fred was consumed, allowing Hermione to lead them, as she kissed, and nipped and tugged him into a strange foggy oblivion. Until finally, Hermione tugged him forwards, threatening them both to topple over, Fred pulled his lips away from hers, both gasping for breath. He leaned his chin onto her shoulder, as Hermione nipped at his jaw, allowing the fog to slowly dissipate.

“Merlin, Hermione.” Fred groans quietly, receiving a quirk of her lips, and another kiss to his neck. 

“You’re very sweet Fred, and romantic, like I said. And,” she paused, leaning her head against his shoulder for a second, unraveling her fingers from his hair to instead trace along the collar of his shirt, “a-and I find you  _ very _ attractive. Sorry that I jumped you.”

Fred hummed, rubbing her back up and down in a comforting circle, “I thought I’d jumped you.”

“Maybe we’re both to blame then?” Hermione smiled up at him, revealing her kiss swollen lips. Fred couldn't help himself, and leaned down to kiss her once more. 

“Yes, though I’m more inclined to blame the bloody temptress I’ve unknowingly let into my bed.” He growled down at her, causing a girlish giggle to escape her. “Are you ready to sleep?”

Hermione hummed, thinking it over, but eventually nodded, letting go of his shirt so she could shuffle backwards. Fred crawled up to her side, waiting for her to settle on her side. He lifted the covers over her, and slipping next to her once she stopped, letting the blankets drift over them. Hermione twisted to face him, cuddling up to his chest, her hands grabbing at his shirt again. Fred bundled her up in his arms, pulling her as tightly to him as he physically could. 

“Hermione?” Fred found himself saying, but it was too late for her to ignore it.

“Yes?” She whispers back, her nose tickling his neck. 

“Can I tell you something?”

He allows her to shuffle back enough to lift her face to him, where she can see his eyes again. “Of course.”

“I’m pretty sure I love you.” Fred whispers, but the answering silence is not suffocating or awkward. They had only said so to one another one other time aside from tonight, and this time felt just as heavy and important as the last. Hermione seemed to be reveling in the moment as well, staying silent long enough to make Fred shift to look down at her.  

“Fred?”

“Mm hm?”

“I’m certain I love you too.” she says without a stutter, or whisper, and leans up to kiss the underside of his jaw, unknowingly landing on his pulse point. Fred stuttered out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, squeezing her side. They both lapsed into silence, calm and content to just be together, both silently bursting with love for the other.

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _


	13. Chapter 13

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _

_ August, 1998 _

*.*.*

The morning sun evaded Hermione completely, confusing her when she opened her eyes to see a still mostly dark room. Bleary eyed, she glanced around, trying to place where she was and why it wasn’t her cot in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Eventually, her sleep addled brain remembered she had spent the night at Fred’s, and was currently viewing the morning through his spell-darkened blinds. Shifting slowly, Hermione turned to face the man still behind her, his arm draped over her side, cuddling her back into his front. It took a moment, as she didn’t want him to wake up from her wriggling, but she successfully flipped herself around to be face to face with the sleeping Fred. 

As dark as the bedroom was, Hermione was able to focus on his features, and trace the bridge of his nose out before finding his browbone. Her fingers continued up, dragging through the thick, straight ginger hair.  Carding her fingers through the mop, Hermione lost herself, imagining waking up like this every morning, warm in Fred’s arms, the room like a cozy cave, and Fred still asleep, subject to her perusal. Her mind wandered, imagining waking him up each morning for work, cuddling before breakfast, and eventually having an extra little body cuddled in between them…

“Morning beau’iful,” Fred murmurs, voice cracking from sleep. Hermione was shocked out of her daydream, feeling her cheeks grow warm from the direction they had taken. 

“Hello,” she says back, deciding not to cease the grooming session she had seemed to have started. Fred doesn’t say more, stretching his back out with his arms going over his head momentarily, before dropping them back over her sides, bundling her up into a tight hug.  

“What are you thinking about so early?” Fred mumbles, sleep still in his voice,  but awake enough to form full words. 

Hermione hums to herself, debating on how to answer. On one hand, she was thinking of Fred and her in bed, every day. But, she was also dreaming of children they inevitably had to have. And while the first may not seem like a big deal anymore, the second was something she wasn’t sure they were quite ready to discuss yet. 

“You still in there Granger?” Fred teases, dipping his own fingers once through her curly mane. Hermione mumbles something, Fred leaning in to try and catch it. “Sorry, love, what was that?”

“I was, um, thinking about  _ this _ . Waking up together.” She says, not looking up from where her hands were still carding over and over. Fred hummed happily, allowing her to continue. “And, well, I imagined waking up like this  _ later _ too.”

“Later?” Fred asks, not catching her meaning. 

“Later,” Hermione nods, and looks down at him shyly, “with children.” 

Fred was silent, not saying anything, but Hermione was stubbornly looking up into his hair again, afraid of just how awkward this lovely morning had just become. 

“Huh,” Fred said finally, Hermione refusing to look away. “You imagined more than one?”

Hermione was silent, trying to decide if he sounded surprised or scared by the idea. They both knew they had to produce at least one child as per the Law agreements, but having more than one child per marriage was up to the discretion of the couples. Hermione herself had never imagined having more than one in this marriage situation, but now finding this love with Fred had changed her opinion. 

“Well, no, I was only imagining the one…”

“Oh.” Fred breathes, and Hermione has to look down at him now. 

“Did you expect more?” She had to ask, watching his face with a small bit of trepidation. 

“I don’t  _ expect _ anything ‘Mione, but, I thought you’d maybe want more.” he was blushing, she realized and felt immensely better about talking through this. If he was nervous, than she knew it wasn't embarrassing as much as it was a misunderstanding between them. 

“I wouldn't mind more than one.”

Fred's head snapped up, surveying her face to see if she was saying it it just to appease him. He must have seen something that convinced him she was telling the truth as he relaxed into her chest, nuzzling his nose over the fringe of her hair on her forehead. 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm, I mean,  I grew up as an only child, and can admit it wasn't always the most fun. Besides, if your mother can rear seven and have them grow up so well, I don't see why I can't tackle two.” Hermione grins at him, and Fred smiles back before a devious little grin graces his face.

“Or three?”

Hermione snorts, “Or three.”

Fred peeks up at her from where he's nestled into her neck now, with Hermione's arms draped over his shoulders, “Four?”

“Let's cap it at three, Freddie. It's all my mind can take at the moment.”

Fred hums, not pushing nor dropping the conversation. Hermione lays a kiss next to his ear, shrieking as she suddenly finds herself being rolled over, Fred kissing up her neck to her lips. After a lovely cuddle, Hermione finally pushes Fred away, begging to be let go and wash up. He watches her leave, laying on his back sprawled out on his bed, wondering how his life turned out so well after such a dangerous and worrying childhood. Just having such a lovely witch, a literal perfect soul mate, made everything just that much better. 

Deciding to begin breakfast, Fred rolls off the bed, and leaves the bedroom. Strangely, the rest of the flat seemed to be empty, with no George hanging around or still in his room. It was a Sunday, so the store downstairs was closed, but it was possible he had gone to the Burrow earlier than normal. Either way, Fred was glad for the privacy, and silently thanked his brother for the chance to play house with Hermione. Deciding to start with tea, Fred thought nothing of waving his hand at the kettle, starting the stove top up. He reached for the mugs before pausing, and taking stock of the subconscious magic done without a wand. He’d never been able to do non wand magic, or at least not very easily. 

“Oh tea, good thinking. I’ve missed out of a cuppa for a few days already with all the work in the shop.” Hermione interrupted him, and he spun around to face her like he had been doing something naughty. 

“Er, yeah, I figured we deserved it if we’re going to be talking about some pretty heavy stuff.” Hermione cocked her head at him, but bit her lip and nodded. Fred continued to sort the tea out, trying to re-wrap his head around the conversation he was trying to continue with her.

“So,” Hermione starts, talking to Fred’s back, “Three?”

Fred chuckles, turning with the mugs, tea bags steeping in the water, “Jumping right back in then?” Hermione merely shrugs, giving him a quirk of her lips, “Alright, yes, three.”

“Why three then?” 

“Well,” Fred settles himself next to her at the counter, leaning a hip against the side as Hermione hops up to sit on the top before collecting her mug from him with a small ‘thanks’. “One, as we've said, is a bit lonely. Two I’ve always thought causes competition. So, three would balance them all out, each there for one another when we can’t be, no one would be lonely with at least one other person there. Besides, I know for a fact that after four siblings it can get crowded.” He grins at her, and waits for her to catch up with his logic.

“You’ve really thought about this.”

“Yeah,” Fred nods, “but I thought about how many children I wanted before this whole Soul Bond thing came about. Haven’t you ever thought about it before?”

“Yes, but I also thought at one point I’d never have the chance.” Hermione says quietly, taking a contemplative sip of her tea. Fred peeks at her from the corner of his eye, waiting for her to say something. When she doesn’t, he decides to push her.

“Will you ever tell me? About that lost year, with Harry and Ron?” Hermione is silent and unmoving, worrying Fred enough that he puts down his mug and turns his body to cage her between his arms. Hermione relaxes her legs for him to step in close to her, but stares down somewhere near his chin. He lifts her face up with a few fingers beneath her chin, at the same time fingering the edge of the long wrap bandage she keeps on her arm, ever since she’d come home in May. He stays this way, waiting for her to reconnect with him. 

“I will, but, not now,” she whispers, and Fred nods in agreement.

Happy to keep the conversation light this morning, he releases her arm as well, smoothing his hand once over her whole arm, wrist to shoulder, “Deal. Now, how about we change the subject?”

“Okay,” Hermione smiles, taking up her tea again, relaxing beneath his hands.

“When are we breaking it to mum that we’re going to run away together and elope?” Fred grins at her, happy to hear a startled snort leave Hermione. 

“If we said anything of the sort, your poor mum would faint from the shock before waking up and dragging you by the ear to a proper venue.” Hermione chuckles through the visual, imagining poor Molly Weasley being threatened to miss one of her children’s weddings.

Fred chuckled, nuzzling his nose against the side of Hermione’s hair, “It would be a good story later, but you’re completely right. Besides, George would be right next to mum, angry that I tried to ditch him to the drama.”

“Weddings aren’t dramatic — well,” Hermione hummed a pause, “I suppose they’re dramatic, but  _ drama  _  isn’t necessarily always a part of it.”

“It is when it’s a Weasley wedding.” Fred smirked at her, watching her nose wrinkle up when she smiles.

“Not when it’s a Weasley-Granger wedding.” Now Hermione smiles at Fred as he laughs, filling the room with happy laughter.

“Fair enough Granger,” Fred places a kiss to the spot he had been nuzzling before, “I reckon you have a few ideas on how you want your wedding to go then?”

Hermione shrugged, brushing her hair off her shoulders, “I mean, your sister and I have gossiped a bit. And Ginny did help out with Bill’s wedding, and showed me a few things in those trashy Witch mags…”

“So, yes, then?” Fred grins, smothering a laugh when Hermione shoves his shoulder.

“Yes,” she sighs, pulling him back towards her, only releasing him once his shoulder was brushing her side again, “but I want you to have what you want too.”

Fred gave her a slightly confused smile, “I don’t know anything that’s meant to be in a wedding.”

“You don’t really have to, but that can be my job. You can help with the more, detail oriented, things.”

“Like?”

Hermione leans in, placing a soft kiss to his lips, listening to his happy humming, “What’s your favourite colour?”

Fred scoffs out a laugh, but answers anyway, “Purple.”

“Let me guess, George’s is orange?” Hermione grins, thinking of the Wheezes colours. Fred nods, but leans in for another kiss rather than talking about his twin.

Hermione allows a few kisses, unable to stop herself before continuing her questioning, “What do you want to wear?” 

Fred tries not to growl, “Nothing at the moment, love.” Hermione giggles, tugging at the collar of his shirt to pull him up to give him another kiss. Fred gladly went to her, pulling her forwards on the counter in order to press closer. Both of them sunk into one another, happily wasting a few minutes of their unexpected privacy.

Eventually Hermione pulled away enough to take a breath without being interrupted by Fred’s lips. “Freddie, we were discussing something a bit important— “

“This is important.”

“ — if you don’t want your mother to plan everything for us.” Hermione continued as if Fred hadn’t said anything.

“Can I keep kissing you if I agree she can dress us in bloody Death Eater cloaks?” Hermione gave him such a look that it startled a laugh out of him, not expecting such a ‘Mrs. Weasley’ vibe from his fiancee. Fred leaned back, giving her some space, a small smile still flitting over his face, “I’ll take that as a strong ‘no’.”

“I was raised as a muggle Fred, I would like to wear a muggle dress. And I don’t think a large black robe will go well with a white dress.” Hermione smirked, leaning back into the wall behind her, their tea sitting next to them now cold. She waved a finger over hers then his, and steam rose up from each mug once more. 

Fred took his mug back in silence, causing Hermione to look up at him. He looked a little stunned, his eyes not really focusing on her.

“Freddie?” Hermione waved her hand in front of his nose, and his eyes crossed to focus on her fingers. “You still with me?”

“Mmhm, just thinking…”

“About?”

“You,” Fred suddenly began to grin, propping his elbow on the counter to look up into her face, “wearing  a pretty white dress at our wedding. Did you know wizards have no discernable colour woman are meant to wear when they get married?”

“Really?” Hermione was intrigued, though her mind didn’t gloss over the romantic thoughts of her fiance, “no one’s ever done it fashionably, or researched if it had been done and forgotten at some point?”

“No, but focus on this Hermione. Research later,” Fred grins.

Hermione frowns, her brow furrowing as she thinks back, “Fleur had white in her dress.”

Fred nods, agreeing, “Yeah, I think her mother had been against it for some reason, but mum had a partially white dress when she and dad got married, and I think Fleur thought it would be a nice touch.”

“That’s sweet,” Hermione hums, taking a sip of her tea, ideas running through her head, and a mental note to talk to Ginny later. 

“Yup,” Fred popped the last consonant, “now, I have a question Miss Granger; what’s  _ your  _ favourite colour?”

Hermione giggled before answering as seriously as possible, “Blue. A dark, navy blue.”

Fred nodded seriously, gifting her with a kiss to her nose, “Noted. What’s your favourite flower?”

Hermione gave him a shrew look, still unable to keep the smile off her face when he was looking at her like that, “Why, are you going to present me with a bouquet of roses every week?”

“Well that depends on whether roses are your favourite or not.” 

Hermione blushed, “As cliche as it is, yes, I love roses. My dad planted small rose bushes, the Gentle Hermione roses, for my mum when they were expecting me, and mum loved them so much, she named me after them.”

Fred gave her a soft smile, fingering the curls next to her ear, silently agreeing with Mrs. Granger, “Hey, Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“Where are your parents?” Hermione went still once more, barking out a humourless laugh.

“You're really hitting a homerun with these questions Fred.”

Fred screwed his nose up in perplexion, “What's a home run?”

“Muggle term,” Hermione waves his off, “I mean, you’re asking some pretty difficult questions.”

“Oh, you don't have to answer if you aren't comfortable. I just noticed, you hadn't really left the Burrow since the battle, and I thought your parents would have wanted to see you.”

“No, I just —,” Hermione sighs, laying her arms over his shoulders, bringing him in for an impromptu hug, “Fred, these last few months have been difficult.”

Fred frowns at her, dipping his head down to try and catch her eye, “Difficult how?”

“I, Fred, I did something before I left with Harry and Ron. We were being cautious, and left quietly without really telling anyone, so you’d all be safe.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he grumbles, frowning thinking about the trio leaving to face certain death alone. 

Hermione holds up a finger, silently asking for him to allow her to speak her piece, “Yes, and well, I had been at my parents house at the beginning of summer, rather than coming straight here before the wedding. And, I didn’t want my parents to get in any trouble, or have someone find them to harm them. So, I performed an Obliviate on the both of them.”

Fred was shocked into silence, his mouth popping open as he stared at her, “What?!”

“My parents don’t know where I am. Actually, my parents don’t know  _ who _ I am. Or, who they were, or that they even have a daughter in Britain.” She trails off, nose ducking down further and further until it was nestled into his throat, hiding her voice into his collar.

Fred scuttled back, his hands going up to clutch at the sides of her face to try and get her to look at him, “‘Mione, love, why haven’t you said anything before this? Where are they?”

“I don’t know exactly, I asked Kingsley to search for them, but  their location was only pinpointed to Australia. And that was months ago, after the battle.” Hermione sniffled, wiping hastily at her nose. “I haven't had any time to ask again, and I doubt it would be the most important thing for the Minister to deal with…”

Almost stumbling back, Fred clutched at her hand, to gain her attention,“You’re Hermione Fucking Granger! They had better make time for you, you just helped save the Wizarding World! You’re bloody famous, and brilliant, and deserve to have them help you.” Fred knew he was yelling, but the thought of his beautiful witch being so sad, and keeping all of this bottled up for so long…

Sighing deeply, Hermione tugged on his hand he still had entwined with hers, stopping his rant, “I don’t know what I would do when I found them, Fred.” 

This stopped Fred in his tracks, looking into those caramel eyes, finding them hard. Hermione leaned back against the wall, dropping her arms from around him, but did not look away from him. 

“You really gave them that strong of an Obliviate?”

“Yes, but it’s still possible to reverse it.”

“But you won’t?”

“I didn’t say that — I just don’t want to uproot them again. For all I know, they could have moved on, and had another baby.”

Fred was shocked at the strength of Hermione, as well as the stubbornness. He and George had always waved Ron and Harry off when they had insisted their friend was forcing them into something, or wouldn’t let something she believed in go. He saw now, and while it was impressive, it was also misplaced.

“Mione, love, as true as that could be,” he leaned back in, creating space for himself between her legs, “you can’t make the decision to miss out on your life for them.”

Hermione was silent, deliberating his words in her head. Fred didn't say any more, stroked along her jaw once more before releasing her with a soft sigh. He turned back to their breakfast dishes, waving them into the sink to be dealt with later. It was a tense few minutes, but Hermione was the one to reach out, and brush against his shoulder. Fred spun, and saw her standing behind him, a smile tipping up the corners of her lips.

“I love you,”

Fred smiled down at her, and leaned in for a kiss before answering, “I know, and I love you.”

“I’ll make an appointment with the Ministry this week. But, if they find them, and bring them here, will you come with me to restore their memories?”

Fred nodded, kissing her forehead very gently before gathering her up into a hug. They swayed back and forth like this in the middle of the kitchen, neither pulling away until they heard the Floo in the opposite room flare up, announcing a call.

“Hermione? Fred, give me Hermione!” Ginny’s voice rang through the flat. Hermione looked over her shoulder towards the fireplace, giving Fred a confused look. Fred was just as unsure, nodding towards the living area. Hermione left his arms and went to see what her friend needed. 

Feet padding onto the soft creamy carpet, Hermione dropped down to her knees in front of the fireplace, spotting Ginny’s face nestled in the flames, looking harried.

“Oh thank Merlin! I didn’t know where else you’d be if not here! Hermione, I need help. Harry’s gone out with Ron, and I can’t get Teddy to calm down!”

“Okay, Ginny calm down. How long has he been crying?” Hermione sat down on her bum, realizing this could be a longer chat.

“It’s been hours! I don’t know what else to do, I’ve tried everything, but he won’t stop. His hair has shifted to the angriest shade of red I’ve ever seen.” the poor frazzled new mother groaned, her eyes shutting in defeat for a moment.

Hermione got up onto her feet, “I’m coming over, Gin. I’ll bring Fred too, and see what we can do. And maybe you can go have a nap as well.” Hermione flicked her wand out, summoning her jacket from last night. 

Ginny looked so relieved, Hermione thought she might have started crying, “Oh thank you! Yes, thank you, I’ll be in the living room with him. Though, you’ll probably hear him as soon as you get in…” And with that, Ginny’s face shifted back into smoke and flame, ending the call.

Hermione rushed into Fred’s bedroom to find him already getting dressed, with a muggle-esque leather jacket thrown over a new white shirt, and a pair of robe trousers. He looked up when he saw her, and threw her pants she’d worn yesterday her way, as well as a blue pinstripped work shirt of his own.

“I heard; go get dressed and I’ll pack up the rest of breakfast for my poor sister. I’ll have to give that nephew of mine a stern talking to.” Hermione nodded, tucking the too large shirt into her trousers, and led the way to the Floo.

 

.: * _ Aparecium*\:. _


End file.
